Finding Paradise
by Darkglade
Summary: Elizabeth had finally done it. She had killed Erebus, slain it in a world where it was tangible, mortal, vulnerable. Unfortunately, the act seemed to have come with a pesky title, and now gods and shady organizations were showing up on her doorstep when all she wants to do is live with her loved one in peace. (Minor AU)
1. I waved them goodbye

It felt like an eternity.

An eternity of slumber, silence, and vigilance. Of pain, madness, and sorrow.

But something changed. There was a fracture in the dream, a fracture that spread, cracked, and rent the world asunder, casting him adrift in the Sea of Souls.

He drifted aimlessly, pulled along by the whims of the current and the souls that bore him. But slowly, ever so slowly, he felt himself pulled upwards, towards that gleaming, bright light that cast its wondrous rays over the sea and gave every soul its color.

But the endless dream was reluctant to let him go; he could still feel the shards that clung to him, the last vestiges of its tendrils weighing on him, trying to drag him back down, back into that nightmare.

He could still remember it, that monstrous, black demon, its eyes glowing red with the hatred of a thousand souls. He could still feel its frenzied claws, its talons tearing into him with an anguished cry like it was tearing itself apart rather than him.

It was still all too vivid, all too _fresh_, and as he struggled to escape that crushing abyss, that infinite _weight_, he couldn't tell what was fake, what was real, what was _fake_, what was _real_, _what was __**fake**__, what was __**real **_–

"Good morning, Minato~"

The voice was soothing, comfortable, and so _painfully _familiar. It sliced through his hazy consciousness, ensnaring him in its melody and forcefully hauled him _up_.

His eyes shot open.

". . . Elizabeth?"

Minato's voice was hoarse, his words sounding just as cracked and dry as the throat they came out of. But even so, she beamed at him, smiling as if he had just handed her the world itself on a silver platter.

"I'm glad to see your cognitive abilities are still in top condition! I was afraid that your years spent as a stone statue might have dulled your wits."

He slowly sat up, each movement giving rise to some protest from something within his body. But even as the aches piled on, compounding with each other into an overwhelming agony that would've paralyzed lesser men, he couldn't help but feel . . .

Good.

He felt alive. He felt whole. He couldn't feel that immense burden anymore, that crushing despair that had wanted nothing more than to simply _give up and __**die**_. Which must mean . . .

"Don't worry about Erebus; I took care of it."

He blinked at her. How did one "take care" of an immortal manifestation of humanity's darkest feelings?

She rolled her eyes at his blank expression. "In case you couldn't tell, I mean I killed it! I even teleported it to the moon first to avoid causing collateral damage. And this time, it's gone for good. Which means . . ." She stepped in front of him and bent over so they were staring at each other in the face.

"You're free now," she said softly. "You don't have to bear that burden anymore, that onerous cross that no one should have to shoulder."

Minato blinked again, but this time, he felt the wet trickle of a tear sliding down his cheek. He . . . he hadn't been expecting this. He hadn't expected to be saved, hadn't expected to be given any sort of reprieve from the eternal torment he had willingly subjected himself to.

But as he stared at his savior and felt the warmth of her gentle gaze on him, as he listened to the steady beat of their hearts, pounding in unison and reminding him that he was _alive_, that he was flesh-and-blood and not a cold, stiff statue, it all finally sunk in.

Relief crashed down on him like a mighty wave, and he had never felt more human. Because it was human nature to be selfish, to put one's own well-being above that of others, and even when he willingly made the choice to go against it, to go against that raw, basic instinct for the sake of those he cherished, there had still been that fear, that nagging doubt that he was making a mistake.

Even as he felt the seal envelop him, he had heard that haunting whisper in the back of his head:

_Why me?_

Why did he have to be the one to give up his happiness? Right when he had found something worth living for, why did _he_ have to be the one to sacrifice it for the sake of others?

It wasn't fair. Even as he felt his body stiffen, flesh giving way to stone, his final act to save all of humanity, that whisper had continued to repeat in the far reaches of his mind.

_It wasn't fair._

In his last moments before the endless dream pulled him down for his eternal slumber, he only had one thought, one prayer, one final, hopeless wish:

To be saved.

And now, his impossible wish had come true.

The waves of relief finally receded, and he slowly came down from those euphoric highs the tides had taken him to, leaving him drained. Tired. But there was still one more thing he had to do above all else.

". . . What happened to SEES?"

"Funny you should ask about them." She sat down next to him. "Would you like to hear a fairy tale?"

Slowly, he nodded.

The tale was a simple one. It was of a woman with a simple desire, of a curious group known as the Shadow Operatives, and of their efforts to bring about a miracle to save the one they all held dear.

Because a miracle was indeed what it would take to destroy the evil god that held their loved one hostage.

And through much hardship and tireless effort, a miracle is what they managed to achieve.

Minato slowly took it all in, and although his face was as impassive as ever, his heart was moved; it was touching to know that Elizabeth and SEES had treasured him so, to know that they had spent countless hours honing their knowledge and abilities to bring about their miracle:

Transporting Erebus to a world where it could be killed.

But as she spoke, he could feel an undercurrent of sadness, a hint that this fairy tale wouldn't have a happy ending. He could already guess what this tragedy might be when he had woken up and saw that people were missing, that people who should've been here _weren't_.

Even so, he felt the need to ask anyway.

She shook her head sadly. "We could only muster up enough energy to send one person across along with Erebus," she said. "Given my strength, it was a unanimous decision as to who that person might be."

Minato lowered his head. He had been expecting as much. But there was still one more possibility, one more avenue that he needed to explore even though he already knew the answer.

"Can we go back?"

He tried to not be crushed when she shook her head, when she looked down and whispered, "I'm sorry." He felt his world crumble just a little, but he forced himself to catch the pieces as they fell, forced himself to rebuild it stronger than before.

He had been prepared for this possibility. After all, he had accepted that he might never see them again when he sacrificed himself for their sakes. Reclaiming his life was already far more than he could ever have asked for.

Simply knowing that they were still well would have to be good enough for him.

But now that he was free, he felt lost. Unsure. What was his purpose, now that fate had separated him from the one group that had given him life, had given him meaning?

He felt like he had regressed back to his apathetic self, that hollow existence that had never truly lived until he met SEES so long ago. He knew his old friends would be disappointed to see him in this sorry state, floundering about like a fish on land.

He could only imagine the choice words some of them might have for him.

"They wanted you to live."

He looked up at Elizabeth's words to find her golden eyes staring straight into his soul.

"Growing up. Getting a job. Marriage. Family. Finding happiness. All these were denied to you because of the burden you willingly placed on yourself." Her stare intensified. "They didn't want that. _I _didn't want that. In fact, they left me a message. What was it Junpei said? Ah, right. He said that if you were sulking after you got out, I should 'kick your ass into gear'." A hint of red tinted her cheeks. "A bit vulgar, but I do believe it conveys its message quite effectively."

Minato snorted. Leave it to Junpei to be the one to motivate him again, even when they were a world apart. And he had to admit, hearing Elizabeth mimic the crude boy's tone was a treat in and of itself.

He stood up. If that was what his old friends wished of him, then he would oblige. He would honor their last wishes and live his life to the fullest.

And the very first thing he was going to do . . .

Was graduate properly.

After all, he had never finished his senior year. Dying on graduation day didn't help matters either.

Thus resolved, he asked Elizabeth what she intended to do.

"A most excellent question! I have already taken the liberty of scouting the nearby area, and it seems this world's version of Japan does indeed use the same currency as our own, so we needn't worry about money." Her eyes widened. "Ah, I should give you some, shouldn't I? You will need money to purchase those fabled 'school lunches', of course."

She took out her purse, made him hold out his hands, and upturned it.

A cascade of coins came pouring out, a never-ending torrent that quickly spilled out of his hands and clattered on the floor.

Oh. He remembered now. Elizabeth's patented 'bottomless black purse'.

He knew he spent a lot of money on the Compendium, but he didn't think he spent _that _much. Certainly not enough for her to casually toss away three million yen into water fountains.

"There! That should be enough to cover all of your needs."

Minato glanced down. The shower of coins had piled up on itself, conglomerating into a stack that reached as high as his knees.

He was going to need a much bigger wallet to carry it all.

As his mind sifted through his Personas looking for one that could possibly alter the spatial dimensions of his newly gifted wallet, she turned away with a thoughtful expression, as if she hadn't dumped a million yen's worth of coins on him.

"Going back to the dilemma of what I shall do from now on . . ." She tapped her chin repeatedly. "We have no need of money, so there is no need for me to work. However, as I understand it, it is customary for women who look my age to be employed in some fashion in human society. Those who shirk their obligations are looked down upon by others and are referred to in a derogatory fashion . . . what was the term?"

As he carefully extricated himself from his monetary prison, she continued with a triumphant tone. "NEET! That was the term. Not in education, employment, or training." She nodded sagely. "I do not wish to be associated with such a negative stigma, so I suppose I shall find some task that intrigues me."

Given Elizabeth's less-than-stellar knowledge of human culture, he had his doubts about her ability to hold any sort of position. When he voiced his concerns, however, she simply dismissed them with a wave of her hand.

"Fear not, I have learned quite a bit about your society during our time together! The Shadow Operatives were only too happy to teach me more about Japanese culture as well; I am confident that I can navigate your society without standing out."

He gazed at her in disbelief.

"Without standing out _too_ much," she conceded.

Minato shook his head and smiled in amusement. He had missed moments like these, he realized. Moments where he could simply relax and freely converse with those he cherished. After tasting the sweetness of the fruit of bonds, the knowledge that there were those that cared about him and whom he cared about in return, he didn't think he could go back to those lonely days of solitude anymore.

He was glad that Elizabeth was here. He was grateful to her for freeing him. He was grateful to her for choosing to stay with him. He was grateful to her for bearing the last wishes of his old friends, so that he may treasure them in his heart forever.

That's right, he hadn't properly thanked her yet, had he? How rude of him.

"Thank you."

His voice was but a whisper, and for a moment, he was afraid that perhaps it hadn't reached her, she who had already stepped towards the doorway in pursuit of her latest whim.

But then she turned around and gazed at him. Something passed between them then, a signal transmitted along those invisible ties that had brought them together again, something that could not be expressed with words.

She smiled.

"It was my pleasure."

xxx

Going out with Elizabeth was like going out with a hyperactive child who was fascinated by everything she saw.

Minato had already lost track of the number of detours they had taken during their excursion into the outside world, but he was sure it was somewhere in the double-digits and steadily climbing up.

"A museum! Is that not a place where items of great artistic and historical value are showcased for the masses to enjoy?"

She had dragged him outside soon after his awakening to "reacclimate him with the environment", but it was quite clear that it was merely an excuse to let them go out on a date together.

He appreciated it. It had been so long since he had lost himself in a crowd of people, enveloped by a throng of humanity and its ceaseless march towards a brighter future. There was something comforting about being among others, a deep sense of certainty that he was not alone.

There was a reason why solitary confinement was often considered inhumane. People desired connections to others, needed it, in fact, something he had learned all too well as he forged bonds with the members of SEES.

His vigil over the thin border that separated Erebus and Nyx had been a lonely existence, one where he had been suspended in a waking dream. As such, he had felt every torturous moment, every sting of pain whenever Erebus unleashed its rage upon him. His heart had ached all the while, wishing for someone, _anyone_ to connect with. Someone to relieve him of his mental sorrows, someone to tell him that it would be all right.

It had been a painful, lonely existence, but it was one that he had willingly endured for the sake of those he cherished.

"You should try to smile more, Minato!"

He blinked. Elizabeth was right up in his face, smiling in amusement.

"That dour look doesn't suit you. Chin up! This is the start of your brand-new lease on life, and you should be facing it with positivity!"

Almost immediately, he felt his own lips curl up in a smile. He had missed her antics more than he realized, it seemed. He didn't know what she saw in him, what a bubbly, energetic woman saw in a quiet, passive boy like him, but he was glad she had deemed him worthy.

Perhaps she simply enjoyed trying to get a reaction out of him. _He _certainly enjoyed her liveliness at least, craved it in fact, a testament to the yawning void in him that had been left by years of hosting Death.

He knew she was simply trying to cheer him up, trying to "kick his ass into gear" in her own special way. But that didn't make her any less right; dwelling on the past wouldn't do either of them any good, and it was disrespectful towards those who had worked so hard to save him, those who had been left behind and had wanted him to live.

"That's better! If only the others could see you now . . ." She sighed. "I think they'd be delighted."

Minato wasn't so sure about that. It hadn't even been half a day since Junpei's "wake-up call", and he had almost found himself brooding again, thoughts consumed by what he lost rather than what he had. He was sure his old comrades would've huddled together to come up with something more _creative _to help him get over it.

. . . Best to not think about that. He didn't want to even _imagine_ what kind of personal executions Mitsuru could design for him with the rest of SEES helping.

Instead, he would focus on the present. The present that they had all worked together to bring him.

It truly was a gift to live in the present.

"A library? Is that not a temple of knowledge, where information is shared freely with all who make the pilgrimage to its halls?"

Elizabeth scampered off to the side, and he felt himself following in her footsteps to stop in front of an elegantly designed building with a dignified air about it.

It seemed this was to be their latest detour.

"What a convenient location to stumble upon! It would do us well to learn more about this world we've arrived in."

He had to agree on that front; besides, while this world seemed nearly identical to his own, he was curious to see if there were any small differences in play.

xxx

The moment Elizabeth stepped through the automatic doors and saw all those books lining the shelves, she couldn't help herself.

The next thing she knew, she had already pulled down a book and was leafing through its pages at a breakneck pace, absorbing the information within near instantaneously.

"You must really like books."

She looked up as he approached her, a ghost of a smile on his face.

"I _am _fascinated by them, yes," she said, still flipping through the pages. "They are the only thing in your culture that I was already familiar with; the Compendium I manage _is_ a book, after all."

She had always wanted to visit a library after hearing of their divine purpose, but there had never been time for such a frivolous whim. Her mission with the Shadow Operatives took precedence: to defeat the Shadows, wherever they might be, and to find a way to free the boy they all held dear from his curse.

Even the downtime between missions had not gone to waste; she had spent the entirety of those hours preparing, planning, brainstorming possible avenues they could explore.

Mitsuru had applauded her for her staunch work ethic, but even the strict, perfectionist redhead had expressed concern for her workaholic nature after a point.

They needn't have bothered. She wasn't human, after all. She wasn't constrained by their human limits.

Minato pulled down a book and skimmed through it. "It appears the history of this world is a bit different from ours," he noted. "There doesn't seem to have been nearly as many wars between nations."

She nodded idly. "Indeed." She put her book back and immediately pulled down another one. "There seems to be a recurring pattern of powerful kings throughout history – kings that were rumored to bring destruction with them wherever they went." She closed the book and looked down the aisle, gazing at the long line of texts that she had yet to read. "Is it true that anyone who seeks knowledge may take these tomes with them back home to read at their leisure?" she asked excitedly.

He glanced up at her question. "Yes. But you must return them within a certain timeframe."

"Oh, a deadline! A restriction that forces one to consume knowledge at a rapid pace, far faster than what they might be used to! What an ingenious method of developing young minds!"

He smiled in amusement. "If you wish to borrow some of these books, I believe the checkout counter is over there." He pointed.

Following his finger, she spotted a young woman sitting behind a counter, watching the various passersby mill about the area.

Ah, she must be a priestess of this temple! One in charge of safeguarding these sacred texts, surely.

Elizabeth approached the woman, a bundle of books in her arms. "I would like to, ah, what was the term? Check out? Yes, check out!"

The woman smiled at her. "Of course. If you would just show me your library card . . . ."

She blinked in confusion. Library card? Was that a proof of membership? Did she have to join the temple to partake in this sacred ritual of "checking out?"

"Ah, I don't have one of those," she confessed.

The woman's smile did not falter. "That's okay! Just give me some form of identification, and I can set you up in a jiffy!"

She blinked again. Identification? She needed some sort of item that could identify her? She didn't have anything like that, unless . . .

Suddenly finding inspiration, she pulled out the Persona Compendium and set it on the counter. It was, after all, what her duties as an attendant of the Velvet Room had revolved around. There was no object in existence that defined her better than this!

The woman's smile showed the faintest of cracks as she picked up the Compendium and peered within its depths. "Ah, this is . . . a book? On mythology, at that . . ." She looked up. "I'm afraid we aren't currently accepting donations. Now, would you please show me some form of identification?"

That wasn't good enough? Elizabeth was stumped. "I do not think I possess this 'identification' you speak of . . . ."

The woman's smile finally broke down. "Really? You don't have a driver's license or a student ID or anything?" She sighed. "In that case, I'm afraid I cannot allow you to check any of these books out. You will simply have to read them here."

Oh? Was that all? She had thought there would be a much greater punishment for abandoning a ritual half-way through, but this temple must be more generous than she thought.

"Is that so? Very well, then! Thank you for your time."

She walked back towards where her lover waited, a mildly dejected look on her face.

He looked up at her approach. "Trouble?"

She frowned. "Apparently, I lack some form of 'identification' that is required by this temple. Which is a shame, since I had wished to partake in its services."

He nodded in understanding. "Ah, right. We don't exist here. Not officially, anyway." He frowned. "This may pose a problem in the future."

"Truly? Is this 'identification' you speak of so important?"

At his nod, she found herself furrowing her brows in thought. "Strange. I never encountered such an issue back in our old world. Although, it may simply be because Mitsuru and the others took care of the logistics for me."

"That sounds like something she would do if you joined her organization." He glanced to-and-fro, finding a nearby computer and sitting down in front of it (that reminded her, experiencing the activity known as 'surfing the internet' was definitely next on her to-do list!). "We may need to find others who can do the same for us here," he said as he opened the browser and began searching.

She glanced around, looking for another computer that was available, but every single one seemed to be occupied.

Disappointing. But that was fine, she had plenty of other things to occupy her attention.

She glanced down the aisles, the myriad of books lining their shelves creating a colorful mosaic that enraptured her, beckoning her to come hither and discover their secrets.

How long would it take for her to read every single book in the library, she wondered?

She always did enjoy a challenge.

xxx

Yuri was miffed. Peeved. Perhaps even a bit put-off.

She wasn't _angry_, proper Hime-Mikos do not get _angry_, they simply lost their composure for a moment. That was all.

She was simply a little . . . _frustrated_. Frustrated that two _more_ contestants had shown up to compete for Godou's attention, and they all seemed so much more impressive than her.

She wasn't a fighter. The other three girls were all stellar warriors, wielding divine swords and commanding magic to aid Godou on the battlefield. Meanwhile, _she _was forced to remain in the backlines, acting as support.

Her only saving grace was that he relied on her Spirit Vision to gather the information needed for his Warrior Authority, which was, of course, a very important job! But even so, she wished she could do more for him, could be more useful to him, could _stand out _more to him.

Off the battlefield, the situation wasn't much better. Ena, her childhood friend, had a body that could only be described as that of a goddess (Godou's words, not hers), and Erica was a classic blonde bombshell who drew the envy of women everywhere. Liliana was no slouch either, possessing an exotic, fairy-like appearance that she only wished she could compete with.

The only thing Yuri had going for her was her intelligence; she had the best grades out of all of them, no, out of the entire _school_, a status that she took pride in. As a result, she had spent many late nights tutoring the four of them the day before a major exam.

It wasn't much, but the smile and "thank you" Godou expressed to her after she helped him ace a test made her heart soar.

She wanted to keep feeling that, that genuine feeling of gratitude and appreciation. Thus, it was imperative that she diligently keep up with her studies, which was why she was currently studying at the library.

Pulling down another book, she skimmed the first few pages, then closed it and put it back after realizing it wasn't what she was looking for.

She sighed. Math was her least favorite subject. All those numbers and symbols clumped together on the page made her head swirl. But since the other girls were even more hopeless than her at calculus, it was up to her to save her boyfriend from the terror of flunking out of school.

She knew it would be more efficient to use a computer to look up the information she needed but using one just didn't appeal to her. As a Hime-Miko, she had a strong connection to the spiritual world, and using something so touched by humans, so _artificial _was anathema to her. Books, on the other hand, felt more natural, more _real_. There was something special about the way it felt to turn a page, to breathe in the musty scent of a book as she delved into its pages. Something that technology simply couldn't produce (no matter what all those ads about e-books said!).

She only kept her cell phone on her because she understood the importance of communication; if it weren't for that, she would've tossed it away as soon as Amakasu-san had given it to her.

Stepping around a shelf, she bumped into a woman who happened to be there. "O – Oh, pardon me – !"

The woman said something in response, but Yuri couldn't hear it. Because her Spirit Vision had suddenly flared up, and her world had washed away.

_It was afraid._

_It howled and hissed, snarling at that all-too-familiar white-haired woman and the Avatar of Death at her side._

_She had done something to it, it knew. It could feel that something was wrong, that something had changed. _

_Before, it had merely regarded the two of them as nuisances, buzzing flies that simply delayed the inevitable end it sought to bring about – for it was a god, an immortal manifestation of humanity's darkness that could not be erased._

_But now, as it stared at that sinister blade bared against it, it felt naked, utterly exposed. There was a creeping chill in the air, and it could _feel _the bloodlust directed towards it, bloodlust that it had once been able to ignore with impunity._

_The woman said something, and Death's grinning visage filled its view, a crackling skull that leered at it as the blade sunk deep into its hide, carving flesh apart._

_In a single moment of clarity amidst the visceral pain that dominated its mind, it realized something:_

_For the first time, it was afraid of Death._

_It tried to run. But there was no running from Death, that grim reaper who shadowed its victim wherever it might be. _

_It tried to fight. But one could not fight Death, for death was the phantom who came to collect, who would suffer no objection to its decrees. _

_In one desperate, final effort, it tried to attack the woman, that golden-eyed witch who had orchestrated its demise. But by then, its mutilated body could not even reach her, let alone strike her._

_In its last moments before it faded forever, it could see its essence being drained away, trapped in those coffins strung up behind Death like a pair of morbid wings._

_The last thing it ever saw was the lid of a coffin slamming shut over it._

The vision ended, and Yuri returned to her senses to find that her entire body was trembling.

It had felt so real. Like she had been there, had been chased by Death itself and mercilessly torn to pieces.

She could still feel it, that primal fear of death that Erebus had felt, that all-encompassing, all-consuming void that she hadn't even known gods _could _feel.

She stared down at her hands, hands that were pale and clammy, and she imagined that the rest of her body didn't look much better.

"Oh? You don't look so good; have you caught a fever, perchance?" The woman leaned in closer to her, and she almost instinctively backed away, afraid that Death might come leaping out of the woman's shadow at any moment and _eviscerate her with its bloody black blade–!_

There was no doubt about it. This woman was the mysterious Campione that had slain Erebus, the one that the History Compilation Committee had been panicking about for the past few days. And if she really could control a manifestation of Death as her vision suggested, they were very right to be worried indeed.

She had to report this. Had to get back and warn them, give them time to prepare, time to let _Godou _prepare.

But first, she had to make it out without dying from the newest Campione's ire or fainting from sheer terror.

"I – I'm fine," she stuttered out. "P – Please don't concern yourself over me."

"Are you sure? It's possible you're experiencing a panic attack: you seem to be breathing rapidly, your face looks pale, and you seem to be shaking quite a bit –"

Yuri felt that she really might experience a panic attack as the woman listed off her symptoms, but she was saved when a soft voice interjected:

"You're scaring her."

It was a boy. His voice was calm, melodic, and she could feel herself calming down simply by listening to it.

The woman's face fell. "Am I? I didn't think I was using any form of intimidation that might induce such a response, but I am still inexperienced in the ways of human culture, so perhaps I blundered somewhere." She gazed at her with sharp eyes, and Yuri felt herself stiffen up again. "As a token of apology, I shall lend you my aid. You came to this temple of knowledge seeking information, no? Tell me that which you seek, and I shall bring it to you!"

Yuri blinked. What? What was going on? Was the Campione really backing down just from the boy's words? And did she really offer to fetch books for her?

. . . Best to play along. Everyone knew that it was best to go along with whatever a Campione said.

"M – Math," she stammered out. "I – I was looking for math textbooks . . . ."

"Mathematics! A most useful yet complex field; I commend you for desiring to study such a difficult subject." The woman spun on her heel and walked away. "I shall return with your desired materials shortly!"

As she disappeared behind a set of shelves, Yuri could feel her pounding heart calm down, her body slowly realizing that the danger had passed. She turned to look at her savior, who was simply gazing at her impassively.

Remembering her manners, she hastily bowed. "T – Thank you for that. My name is Yuri Mariya."

He nodded at her. "Minato Arisato." He paused for a moment, then inclined his head into the distance. "And that was Elizabeth."

She had their names. Finally, the HCC could put a name and face to the newest Campione who had slain Erebus. And as a bonus, the knowledge of a mysterious boy who seemed to be acquainted with her. Should she try to get more information out of him?

It was risky. Every moment she spent here was another chance for her to be killed on a whim. But every scrap of knowledge could be vital, every tidbit of information could be what was necessary to fuel Godou's Warrior Authority, that trump card that could easily turn the tide of a battle between godlike beings.

Besides, as she remained in Minato's presence, she couldn't help but feel a sense of . . . peace. Tranquility. She felt at ease around him, safe and secure. It was that feeling that gave her the courage to stay and ask her questions.

"Um, may I ask how you know her? Elizabeth-san, I mean."

He turned to gaze at her, regarding her silently.

"She saved my life," he said softly.

Yuri blinked in surprise. That . . . she should've expected an answer like that; after all, she herself followed Godou out of loyalty after he had saved her from being used as a tool in one of Voban's sick ploys for power, but hearing it said so casually threw her for a loop anyway.

"I – I see." She paused, briefly considering, then decided to take the plunge. "What's she like?"

If he was at all put off by her sudden curiosity, he did not show it. Rather, he simply nodded along and responded like she was asking perfectly normal questions.

"She is very whimsical. Playful. Excitable. Curious, too." A pause. "Is that enough for you?"

From what she had heard so far, it sounded like the newest Campione would be quite a handful to manage. Then again, what Campione wasn't a pain to deal with?

She bowed again. "T – Thank you for indulging me!"

He nodded at her, acknowledging her gratitude, but as she turned to leave, her thoughts already awhirl about what she would put in her report, a mountain of books blocked her path.

Stunned in place by this sudden migration of dead trees and leather, Yuri almost jumped in surprise when it spoke to her.

"Apologies for the delay! I wanted to ensure that you obtained a comprehensive grasp of all the core fundamentals of mathematics, so I did my best to find the leading textbook in each of the fields!"

She was still stunned in place when the first textbook was dropped in her hands. Then another. And another.

"This one in particular is truly fascinating. I do not know why, but it seems that books with rather humorous titles that insult the reader are quite popular."

By this point, the stack of books in her hands had reached her head, and she could clearly see _The Complete Idiot's Guide to Calculus _as it joined its brethren in making her hands feel like they were about to fall off.

"And that should be the last one! If you read each of these books cover-to-cover, I'm sure you'll become one of the leading mathematicians of your generation!" Elizabeth's face popped out from behind the mound of glorified paperweights. "I'll be looking forward to hearing about you when you create a new theory that redefines the laws of the universe as we know it!"

Yuri was glad that the HCC had given her some basic martial arts training. Without it, she doubted that she would've been able to hold the weight of the history of math for this long.

Maybe, just maybe, if she was lucky, she would be able to reach the checkout counter without dropping anything and (possibly) irritating the newest Campione.

"Oh no! I forgot about quantum calculus! And q-theory! And noncommutative geometry! The library didn't have books on those subjects, so they escaped my notice! I must rectify this at once!"

On second thought, if she was going to die, she would rather be cut down quickly and painlessly by Death rather than succumb to textbook overdose.

Truly, the newest Campione was a most cruel and terrible tyrant.

xxx

It was Friday, and Kaoru was playing card games with her friend while the entirety of the History Compilation Committee ran around in the background like a bunch of headless chickens.

"Ah, Sayanomiya-san? For someone of your station, you may wish to show a little more concern."

One of the chickens running around had stopped to speak to her. How irritating.

"I fail to see what worrying over something out of our control is going to accomplish, Amakasu-kun." She looked up from her hand. "You should know as well as I do that doing something with insufficient information can be worse than doing nothing at all."

The report pertaining to the supposed existence of the eighth Campione could only be described as sparse at best. As far as they could tell, a Heretic God had suddenly appeared a few days ago, only to vanish just as abruptly.

Their Hime-Mikos (herself included) had worked together to divine the approximate location of the god's appearance, eventually deducing that it had appeared on a remote island off the coast of Japan. They had even managed to identify the god as Erebus, an old and powerful evil god.

However, when they had sent a group to investigate the site of the god's appearance, they had found . . .

Absolutely nothing.

There had been no trace of battle. No smoking craters, no snapped trees, no ravaged earth . . . nothing to indicate that a god had been slain there at all.

They had asked the local fishermen and port authorities if anyone had gone out there recently, but none of them reported activity of any sort near the island. For all intents and purposes, it was as if a Heretic God had descended only to promptly disappear right after.

It didn't make any sense. Heretic Gods didn't just _disappear._ They were either slain, or they eventually sated their hunger for destruction and calmed down before hibernating in the Netherworld.

There was no way that Erebus had calmed down in mere seconds. Which meant it must have been slain.

But by who? Godou, the resident Campione of Japan, had been nowhere _near _the island at the time. None of the other Campione had been nearby either, and while it was possible that some hidden Authority from one of them was the culprit, that was highly unlikely. After all, said Authority would need to be able to reach half-way across the world _and _have the capability to kill a Heretic God within seconds.

The power of the gods was incredible, but not _that _incredible.

In short, the most logical explanation was a third party. Perhaps a Campione who had been in hiding all this time, who had only recently chosen to resurface? Or perhaps someone who happened to be in the right place at the right time and was now the newest god-slayer?

"I understand what you are trying to say," Amakasu said. "But surely, it is never too early to begin trying to think of contingency plans, no?"

She scowled as her opponent outmaneuvered her yet again and forced her to concede the match. "Damnit. Should've seen that coming." She returned her gaze to him as her opponent cleared the table. "When the time comes, we'll use diplomacy as we've always done. Besides, we have Godou-kun on our side now, so we're not entirely helpless."

He frowned. "You know about Godou-san's reluctance to partake in the affairs of the supernatural. We cannot afford to wholly rely on him."

"Yes, yes, I know. But even so, you all need to learn to stop worrying. Lighten up a bit!"

He crossed his arms and gazed at her long and hard. "You're acting a bit strange today," he finally declared.

"Oh?" Kaoru's eyes roved over her newest hand. "And what makes you say that?"

"You're always the first to get serious whenever something involving the Campione occurs. You would've been the first to pick up that report and pick out the small details the rest of us aren't able to find." He glanced at the table she was sitting at. "Yet here you are, playing cards without a care in the world."

She gave a dry laugh as she set down a card. "You should know that this is part of my routine by now."

"Yes, I do." His eyes narrowed at her. "Which is why I also know that this the first time you've ever been on a losing streak in this game in years."

She leveraged another scowl at him as she lost yet another round. "What can I say? It's just not my lucky day."

"Perhaps," he conceded. "But I find that hard to believe for someone as skilled as you."

She sighed as she leaned back in her chair. Normally, as the heir of the Sayanomiya family and the Chief of this branch of the HCC, no one would dare to speak to her so bluntly.

But she and Amakasu went way back; he had been the first to welcome her when she first dipped her toes into the affairs of the supernatural as a child, and he had provided indispensable help to her over the years as she struggled to gain her bearings in this strange, dangerous moonlit world.

He was a useful advisor. An excellent secretary. And above all else . . .

A loyal friend.

He deserved an explanation.

"I had a vision," she said softly.

He immediately perked up, sensing that what she was about to divulge was something crucial.

"It was a few days ago, right after we felt Erebus descend, actually." She gazed off into the distance, through a window and over the horizon, so far she thought she might see into another world. "I saw a world. A world most similar to ours, but with one crucial difference –

"There were no Heretic Gods. And there were no Devil Kings."

He was silent as she spoke, a fact that she appreciated. She felt that if he spoke, it would shatter this illusion she had built, that this fake world she had woven out of her words would collapse and fade away forever.

"I could see people milling around, living normal, everyday lives. There was no undercurrent of fear, no lingering sense of dread, no sense of apprehension that perhaps, at any moment, they would be killed by something out of their control, that divine retribution might be visited upon them for no reason other than they were in the wrong place at the wrong time."

She turned back to him, a wistful look on her face. "When I saw that, I couldn't help but think . . ."

"Wouldn't it be nice if _we_ lived in a world like that?"

Her story finished, the world she had built slowly dissipated, its entrancing beauty fading to make way for the cold, harsh reality they lived in.

Sensing her withdrawal from her pleasant dream, Amakasu finally voiced his thoughts. "Do you believe this vision has anything to do with the one who possibly slew Erebus?"

"Who can say? It was a nice dream while it lasted though." She turned back to her card game. "Anyway, there you have it. That's what's been bugging me all this time; that and my wishful thinking."

He nodded and looked as if he wanted to say more, only for them to be interrupted by a chicken who had found his head.

"Sayanomiya-san! There's an urgent message from Yuri-san!"

Sighing, she got up. Looks like playtime was over.

A shame, really. She had just gotten a winning hand too.


	2. And said with a smile

There were many things that living in the moonlit world had taught Kaoru: subterfuge, deception, and hyper-awareness of her surroundings had been the least of what had been drilled into her from an early age.

The most memorable experience among those was the first time she had a tail. It had felt so _strange_, so _insistent_, like there was a constant, nagging itch behind her that she just couldn't scratch.

Her hypersensitivity had been written off as a result of her Hime-Miko abilities; after all, spiritual powers manifested in different ways in different Hime-Mikos, and for all they knew, she could quite literally have a sixth sense for this kind of stuff.

In any case, that annoying itch was back and raging as hard as ever, which meant she either really did grow spontaneously grow a tail within the past few minutes or there was a _rat_ scurrying behind her, poking its nose in her business when she really wished it would just go hunt down the next bundle of cheese or something.

She paused in her step. Ignoring it would be far more irritating than confronting it, so confrontation it would be.

"If you're going to be coming along, at least do it openly rather than skulking behind me like some sort of stalker."

Right on cue, Amakasu popped out of an alleyway and smoothly fell in step with her, as if he had expected this to happen all along. "My apologies, Sayanomiya-san. But I could not allow the leader of our beloved organization to wander the streets all by her lonesome now, can I?"

She let out an exasperated sigh. "I'm an adult now, you know. I can take care of myself."

"Be that as it may, it would still be improper to leave someone of your position without an escort."

"I think you mean 'I don't agree with what you're doing, and I'm here to try to talk you out of it', right?"

"Alas, it seems my ploy has been discovered! Whatever shall I do now?"

Kaoru rolled her eyes. "You could go back and leave me alone because I won't change my mind no matter what you say."

She could feel it the moment he tensed, his jovial tone and attitude quickly shifting to cold, businesslike logic.

"Will you really so staunchly stand by your decision to go see the eighth Campione yourself?"

"You should know as well as I do that there _is _no one else to send. Both Yuri and Ena are preoccupied with their own Campione, leaving me as the only Hime-Miko of note who can negotiate with our recent arrival." She sped up her pace, like she was trying to leave him and his nagging concerns behind. "Sending someone of lower status could be construed as an insult, and any slight against a Campione could easily prove fatal to our entire organization."

"Even so, as the leader of our branch, if something were to befall you, which is certainly quite possible given the volatile nature of Campione, I fear for what would happen to the rest of us."

"We are but one branch of the greater whole. If something were to happen to me, I'm sure the other branches would send someone to take over."

"Ah, but you are not simply a leader, but the last remaining heir of one of the Four Families – the Sayanomiya, the think-tank, the core advisors of our group. I do not believe you are quite as replaceable as you make yourself out to be."

"And _I _do not believe you understand that this over-reliance on one group of people is going to be our downfall. Times change, Amakasu-kun, and if we do not change with them, we will be the ones left scrambling in the dust. There are other thinkers in our organization, thinkers that I'm sure will become just as great advisors as my family given proper training. You just haven't found them yet."

Her words were for naught, falling on deaf ears. Her companion strode forward, using his longer gait to step in front of her, blocking her path. Amakasu's face was hard, stony like a cliffside she could not hope to scale.

"I'm afraid I cannot let you pass, Sayanomiya-san."

She scowled at him, this man whom she called a friend. She tried to step around him, first left, then right, then left again, but each time the man was there to block her path.

"Get out of my way, Amakasu-kun. That is an order."

He stalwartly held his ground. "I will not. Dismiss me from the organization for my insubordination if you wish; all I ask is that you request for a Hime-Miko to be transferred here from another branch to meet with the Campione instead of needlessly risking yourself. There's no rush, is there? After all, this 'Elizabeth' character seems to have been content with laying low all this time."

Kaoru stood there in silence, ruminating. He wasn't exactly _wrong_, per se. She could've done exactly that and avoided this entire confrontation with him. She had even considered it beforehand.

But there was another reason. Another reason that she was putting herself at risk, a goal that she was willing to put her life on the line to achieve.

"Do you remember the vision I told you about?" she asked.

He blinked at her. "A vision? Ah, I remember. The one about that world where Heretic Gods and Campione did not exist, correct?"

"Yes, that one." Her gaze drifted off into the distance. "I've been thinking about it for a while now . . . and I believe, no, I'm _certain _that it has something to do with the eighth Campione."

His stance easily betrayed his skepticism. "And what makes you so certain about that?"

"Call it a hunch."

"A mere hunch?"

Her eyes bored into his. "Have my hunches ever been wrong?"

He laughed dryly. "Many times, in fact."

She scowled at him. "My hunches as a _Hime-Miko_," she stressed.

". . . No," he admitted. "But even so, this investigation is still something that you can delegate to someone else. Your presence here is, strictly speaking, unnecessary."

Kaoru wanted to pull her hair out over his stubbornness. She knew why he was doing it, of course. He saw himself as a parental figure of hers, and as such, he was rather overprotective of her.

She was grateful for his attention, his desire to care for her; he had done a lot to help pull her together after her parents' untimely demises.

But things were different now. There was a lot more at stake than just her.

"Tell me," she said slowly, "what is the purpose of the History Compilation Committee?"

"Why are you asking me such a question?"

"Humor me."

He stared at her for a moment in silence before reluctantly giving in. "We, as an organization, devote ourselves to monitoring and controlling all the supernatural events in Japan, as well as hiding the existence of such from the general public." He paused. "Is that satisfactory?"

"Close," she said. "But you're missing something."

His eyebrows scrunched together. "Am I? I cannot recall anything else . . . ."

She sighed. "What is the first thing we do when we receive reports of the imminent descent of a Heretic God?"

"We evacuate the surrounding areas," he replied. His eyes widened in realization.

She smirked. "I see you understand now."

"To protect the people from the supernatural . . ." he muttered. "Yes, I see how that is another one of our duties." His gaze zoned back in on her. "However, I still fail to see how that is related to our current conversation."

"I want to make that world come true."

He frowned. "And what makes you think such a vision could possibly come true? You know as well as I do that predictions of the future can be terribly unreliable."

Kaoru withstood his skepticism, shielding her hope from those prying eyes of cynicism. "We won't know how reliable it is until we _try _to make it come true now, won't we?" Her voice lowered. "Besides, don't _you_ wish that such a world would come to pass as well? That such rampant, terrible monsters couldn't play with our lives as they wished?"

He didn't answer her, then. She could tell that he was wavering. She could tell that he wanted to believe in her words as much as she did, wanted to partake in the sweet fruit of hope that she had offered him.

He just needed a little push.

"I want to make that world come true," she repeated, her voice strong and sure. "To protect the people from the supernatural, I want to change this world so that the supernatural does not exist. No Heretic Gods would descend to raze a bustling town to ashes, no Campione would sacrifice an entire populace to sate his selfish needs. And above all else . . ."

Her fists clenched tightly.

"No child would have to watch their parents _die _right in front of them, snuffed out so easily by a god's careless fingers."

He was silent still, staring at her with a face at war with itself. But even against her overwhelming offense, he attempted to put up a feeble defense. "But . . ."

"No." She cut him off. This was to be her coup de grâce, her killing blow. "I know what you're going to say. But this is not something that I can entrust to someone else. This is _my _vision, _my _dream, _my _goal to strive for, and I won't let you take that away from me. I will see this through with my own two hands, and it will start with my meeting with the eighth Campione."

She could see it when he gave up, when the fight finally left his bones and left him a sagging husk, a shadow of the once proud wall that had stood in her way.

"I see . . ." he whispered. "If that is how you truly feel, then I suppose my endeavor was hopeless from the start."

She stepped around him, and this time, he did not move to block her way.

Finally. Now she could devote her attention to preparing for her upcoming audience with the newest Campione. How should she introduce herself, how should she broach the topic, how should, how should –

The sound of footsteps behind her caused her to pause once again. "I thought you had given up, Amakasu-kun."

The man fell in line next to her, a cheery grin on his face despite his recent loss. "Ah, I did. I am simply tagging along now."

"Why?"

"If negotiations should break down, I will throw myself to the wolves to buy you time to escape, Sayanomiya-san."

Kaoru elbowed him in the side. "Don't even joke about that."

"Of course, of course, my apologies." A pause. "I see you chose to dress properly for the occasion. For once."

"You only just noticed?!"

xxx

Elizabeth was disappointed.

She had been looking forward to carrying out a particular custom in human culture, a sacred ritual that was integral to every human courtship.

"Knife, please."

Begrudgingly, she handed the tool over, an instrument which she had wished to use herself.

Alas, her machinations had been foiled before they could even begin, stopped in its tracks by a smoke alarm and a stern shake of the head. For now, she would simply have to play the part of apprentice, watching the master hard at work, hoping that one day, she might be deemed worthy of the craft herself.

The steady sound of chopping filled the room, each interval meticulously spaced apart.

"Pan, please."

She handed it over and peered curiously as Minato loaded the chicken onto it.

"Why do you leave so much space empty?" she asked as he placed the pan on the stove. "You could've fit quite a few more pieces on there."

"Too many and the heat won't reach all of them." He turned the stove on. "Better to not risk it."

She nodded sagely in understanding. It was quite a sensible decision; haste did make waste, after all, and she knew that humans tended to become quite sick after ingesting waste.

"Herbs, please."

As she took out the bag of herbs they had bought, she noticed him sprinkling salt on the cutting board. "Oh? What's that for?"

He glanced at her. "Keeps them in place."

She gazed on in wonder as he began cutting, and sure enough, not a single herb went flying off the board.

What a marvelous tactic! It truly was amazing to see the kinds of tricks humans had come up with over the centuries to make their lives easier.

"You are quite adept at the culinary arts," she said.

"It was necessary." Minato poured the cut herbs into a bowl, one eye darting to the stove to check the pan's progress. "For survival."

Ah, that was right. He had been orphaned at a young age, and without primary caretakers to care for him, he had been forced to look after himself. Learning how to cook was practically a matter of life or death in that scenario.

She frowned. She had never experienced the touch of a caretaker either. Did that make her an orphan too? Did she even _have_ parents in the first place? She knew she had siblings: a strict older sister, a cute younger sister, and a gullible brother whom she loved to tease. But they hadn't been born like humans were, not as tiny, helpless fetuses that were lovingly cared for as they slowly grew into adults. No, they had been born mature, risen as fully developed beings from the endless sea of the collective unconscious that surrounded humanity.

She was unaware of the exact processes that surrounded the creation of herself and her siblings. But she knew that human children often inherited traits from their parents, so what did it say about her when her 'parents' were essentially the entirety of mankind?

Perhaps Igor knew the answer; her enigmatic boss seemed like he knew the answer to everything. Unfortunately, she could no longer freely access the Velvet Room, not when she had abandoned her duties as its attendant, not when her own journey as a Wild Card had already come to an end.

A shame. But she wouldn't overly concern herself with such trifling matters; where she had come from didn't matter nearly as much as where she was _now_.

"Could you set the table?"

She snapped to attention as the master of the kitchen gave an order. "Right away!"

Opening the cabinets, she pulled out two sets of plates and utensils. She was quite glad the previous occupants had so thoughtfully left them behind; it would've been quite a hassle to go out and buy all these necessities herself.

Carefully, she placed each piece in accordance with Japanese custom: chopsticks there, bowls here, plates near the edge for serving . . .

All done! And not a moment too soon as she spotted her lover coming over with their awaited prize in hand.

He set down the dish carefully, its fine aroma already beckoning her forward in temptation. She didn't necessarily _need _to eat, not for sustenance anyway, but she was not beyond savoring delectable dishes for the experience alone.

"This smells delicious! Your skill in the kitchen is truly superb indeed."

His lips curled up in a faint smile. "Thank you." He sat down across from her. "This is the first time I've shared my cooking with someone else."

"I'm to be your first time? What a splendid honor!"

Minato snorted, stifling laughter, although she couldn't imagine what had amused him so. When she tried to pry, however, he simply shook his head and gestured for them to eat.

Picking up her chopsticks with only a hint of clumsiness (she was glad Yukari had taught her how to use them), she prepared to dig into the wonderful meal her boyfriend had made for her.

Bringing the food to her mouth, she closed her eyes as she bit down.

As expected, it was delicious. Delightful. Marvelous, really. As she rolled the morsel around in her mouth, she could feel the food's every texture, every burst of flavor spilling out of its pores, the contrast between the herbs and spices bringing forth a sensation that drowned her in pleasure –

When she opened her eyes again, her extensive analysis of all the different effects Minato's techniques had instilled in the food finally complete, it was to see the boy dabbing his lips with a napkin, his portion of the meal already all gone.

"Ah . . . you've finished already?"

He nodded, picking off a grain of rice that had stuck to his cheek.

Slowly, she glanced down at his empty plate. Then at her nearly full plate. Then back at his plate.

"I've been told that I have a large appetite," he said.

That . . . seemed to be a bit of an understatement. The clock in the corner of the room helpfully informed her that only five minutes had passed. Did he really eat an entire serving in only five minutes? And did she really spend an entire five minutes on a single bite of food?

Somehow, she suspected that neither phenomenon was common in human society. Then again, neither of them was exactly _normal_.

In any case, she was not going to be outdone! Finishing her plate was the least she could do to show her appreciation for the one who had made it, even if she did not have the benefit of "hunger" to aid her in that respect.

Her hand darted like a flurry of blows, rapidly bouncing between her plate and her mouth, throwing a new morsel down her gullet every cycle. She didn't bother pausing to taste any of them; after the extensive analysis she had conducted on the first sample, there was no need to repeat that experiment any longer. Instead, she swallowed the bites whole, new arrivals quickly filling her mouth even as recent departures began the long journey down into her stomach.

Through it all, Minato watched her, a hint of amusement on his normally passive face. When she finally finished, her bowl scraped utterly clean, he spoke up:

"Was it really that good?"

"Of course!" she replied with boundless cheer. "The various flavors and textures you brought out in your dish were truly astonishing – you must be a true master of your craft!"

He shook his head, a smile creeping across his face. "I was just following a recipe."

"Be that as it may, it does not diminish your achievement in the slightest!"

He sighed, giving up on containing her enthusiasm. "If you insist."

She nodded sagely, glad that he had accepted her praise of his skill, before another thought occurred to her. "Ah, did you find anything during your research at the library? Something that might help us with our 'identification' issues, perhaps?"

Another shake of the head.

Elizabeth frowned. "That's rather unfortunate. I believe you'll need one of these 'identifications' if you wish to go back to school, no?"

"Correct. But it's not surprising that I didn't find anything. Groups and individuals capable of forging papers don't tend to advertise themselves very much."

"A true shame. It seems we'll need to dig deeper, then."

Minato nodded in agreement. "What about you?" he asked. "Have you found something that captures your interest?"

Her eyes lit up. "I have indeed," she said. "The books in these 'libraries' of yours do intrigue me so. I don't think I would mind becoming one of those priestesses who preside over these sacred texts."

"A librarian, you mean?"

"Is that their official title? How fitting!"

He looked away in thought. "It could work. You may wish to research their duties and qualifications, though."

The doorbell rang, interrupting their conversation. They both peered at the front door, mystified as to who it might be.

"Visitors?" Minato asked.

Elizabeth shot up, a fist slamming into the palm of her other hand. "Ah, this must be what is known as the 'traveling salesman problem'! Is it not our duty to refuse the gentleman as soon as we can so that he may reach his next destination in the shortest period of time?"

She rushed towards the door to answer it, ignoring the baffled look she left in her wake. "Fret not, I shall take care of it!"

It was time to do her duty as an upstanding citizen of human society!

xxx

Kaoru didn't think the house looked like much.

It was modest, a squat, single-story building with dulled paint, simple ornaments scattered about, and a flower bed that was in dire need of attention. Not really a place she expected a Campione to live.

Then again, Godou lived in a similarly humble abode; he _also _happened to be one of the more reasonable Campione, so she could only hope their luck would hold and their new resident god-slayer proved to be just as agreeable.

"This _is _the right place, correct?" she asked.

Beside her, Amakasu nodded. "Indeed. After Yuri-san gave her report, we sent several agents to discreetly tail the Campione and her companion. This is where they have spent the night for the past few days."

She swept back her hair and smoothed out her dress, a final check to ensure she was presentable. "Let's get this over with, then."

She marched forward, each step weighed down by a hint of trepidation, each breath punctured by the heavy pounding of her heart. This was the first time she would personally negotiate with a Campione, and even though it had been _her_ decision, _her_ will that she do it herself, the shaking in her body was giving her second thoughts.

"Are you alright?" her partner asked behind her. "It's not too late; we can still turn back and leave this to someone else."

She shook her head fervently. No. It had to be her. Somehow, someway, she _knew _that it had to be her, _knew _that she couldn't run away, not if she wanted any chance for her dream to come true.

"I'm fine," she insisted. "Just a bit nervous, that's all."

He chuckled. "I'd be more worried if you _weren't _a tad bit nervous." His smile grew grim. "If the worst should come to pass, however, I will do what I can to help. All I ask is that you do your best to ensure my sacrifice is not in vain."

She knew what he was talking about; she knew he hadn't been joking when he said he would sacrifice himself to save her, she knew he wouldn't even _hesitate _over the decision.

She couldn't do anything about it, however; it was just his stubborn tendencies, his overprotectiveness of her coming into play.

The only thing she could do was ensure it couldn't come to pass in the first place. After all, she didn't want to lose someone close to her.

Not again.

Pointedly refusing to glance back at him, she took one last deep breath to prepare herself . . .

And rang the doorbell.

**Ding-dong!**

The silence that followed was tense, deafening in the way it draped around her and muffled her every sense.

A moment passed.

The door swung open, and the white-haired woman whom she knew to be Elizabeth smiled at her from behind the threshold.

"Sorry! We're not looking to buy whatever it is that you're selling!"

The door slammed shut a moment later, and Kaoru was left wondering what the hell just happened, her mouth flapping up and down like it was reciting lines to a play she had long since lost the script for.

A stifled chuckle behind her revealed that Amakasu was having a grand old time with her most _eloquent _response to the situation at hand.

She turned around and glared at him. "Stop that."

Another aborted snort. "My apologies; I know that it is standard procedure to expect the unexpected in anything regarding the Campione, but of the myriad of possibilities I had considered, I had not even _fathomed _that we would be mistaken as traveling salesmen."

That . . . Kaoru couldn't claim that she had expected that either. The fact that such an outlandish scenario had come to pass had erased the tension and anxiety from before, replacing them with irritation and the utter certainty that the world was conspiring to annoy her into an early grave.

She rubbed her eyes with the palm of her hands, trying to compose herself. This was . . . fine. It wasn't exactly how she had envisioned the meeting would start off, but there were far more disastrous ways to commence negotiations.

After all, nothing was on fire and nobody had died yet; that was always a good start.

Steadfastly ignoring the snickers still raging behind her, Kaoru pushed the doorbell again. This time, she would state their business to clear up any misunderstandings –

"Oh? They're still here? Was I not forceful enough?"

The sound of the woman's voice behind the door immediately sent a chill racing through her body. Not forceful enough? Force? She didn't like the sound of that, especially when any sort of application of force from a Campione on a mere mortal like her would almost assuredly leave her splattered all over a wall –

The door shot open, and Elizabeth stood there once more.

"You must be tenacious indeed, to still be standing here despite my most blunt refusal earlier."

Tenacious was a nice way to put it. Many would've called her foolish for daring to bother a Campione right after being refused an audience once already. She half-expected to be struck down on the spot for her insolence –

The woman's face lit up in a smile. "I suppose such persistence ought to be rewarded! Luckily, we have money to spare, so I shall purchase any and all wares you have brought with you!"

. . . And now the Campione was offering to buy up wares that Kaoru wasn't even selling. Whoever had written in the report that the eighth Campione was whimsical had _vastly _understated that regard.

Finally, she managed to get her mouth working again. "We're not selling anything."

"Oh?" The woman looked at her curiously. "What is the purpose of your visit, then?"

"We, as representatives of the History Compilation Committee, have come here to negotiate with you, the eighth Campione."

She tilted her head. "Campione? Why does that term sound so familiar . . . ?"

"It is the title that was bestowed upon you when you slew a god," Kaoru helpfully supplied.

Elizabeth's face lit up. "Ah! I remember now: a young, violet-haired girl did indeed say something along those lines, but it had slipped my mind until now."

She nodded along, glad they were finally getting somewhere. "Yes, that sounds like Pandora all right."

"Yes, yes, that was her name; it's all coming back to me now!" Her head bobbed up and down in excitement. "But before we get any further, I should mention that I am not truly a Campione."

"Excellent, now our discussion can pro –" Kaoru's brain momentarily halted as it tried to process that impossible statement. "Wait, what did you just say?!"

Golden eyes blinked innocently at her. "I said I'm not a Campione."

"But . . ." Her mouth was flapping around again. Why couldn't the world follow a nice, tidy script like she wanted it to? "Didn't you say . . . ?" she trailed off weakly.

A raised eyebrow. "I never said I _was_ a Campione."

She whirled around and grabbed Amakasu by the collar, dragging him in. If this turned out to be a mistake, heads were going to _roll_!

"Was the report wrong?! Was _Yuri-chan _wrong?!" she hissed.

Her partner was completely unfazed, leveling her with a cool gaze despite her barely constrained urge to throttle him. "I assure you that Mariya-san had the utmost faith in her vision. She saw the woman slay the god firsthand."

"So, this person did indeed kill a god?!"

"Yes."

"Which means she must be a Campione right?!"

"Presumably."

She dropped him, whirling around to face the cause of all her headaches for the past week. "You did kill Erebus, right?!"

The woman grinned. "I did."

"And you met Pandora, right?!"

"I did."

"Which means you're a Campione, right?!"

"I am not."

Kaoru wanted to throw her head back and scream. Alas, that would be quite unladylike and unbefitting the head of such an important organization.

Instead, she simply spoke loudly.

Very, _very, _loudly.

"DAMN IT, START MAKING SOME SENSE, WON'T YOU?!"

The woman cocked her head, regarding her with amusement. Kaoru knew that screaming at a Campione (or at least, someone capable of killing a god) probably wasn't the best idea for her continued health, but at this point, she couldn't care anymore.

She just wanted some _answers_. Was that too much to ask for?

"There is, in fact, a sensible explanation for all of this," Elizabeth said.

There was? She couldn't wait to hear it; maybe it would be enough to put her world back onto the nice, orderly script she had envisioned in the morning.

"I killed Erebus and met Pandora, but she did not make me a Campione."

Kaoru flopped onto the ground. She was done. The world had gone insane. She couldn't recall a _single _instancewhere Pandora had refused to make someone a Campione after they had killed a god, which meant that clearly, the world had broken at some point and she was living out the last dregs of her life before everything shattered completely.

So much for her vision. It had been a nice dream while it lasted, though. Clinging to hope had felt surprisingly nice.

Something shuffled nearby, and she opened one bleary eye to see that the woman had crouched down next to her, smiling gently.

"You'll get back pain if you sleep on the ground like that. Why don't you come inside? I can explain more then." She held out a hand.

Kaoru regarded the offered hand with a hint of trepidation. Nothing had gone as she had envisioned. Nothing had gone as she had planned. Nothing had even made _sense _anymore.

Dare she risk her sanity further by stepping into the den of the lion?

"_I want to make that world come true."_

That's right, it wasn't over yet, was it? So long as she still drew breath, her dream still had a chance to come to fruition. Even if her mind felt like it would crack at any moment, she would still soldier on for the sake of all those who would come after her.

She took the hand.

The woman pulled her up with surprising ease, and she felt herself stumble a little as she regained her balance.

"Excellent! Now, let us –"

She was interrupted by the appearance of a blue-haired boy, likely drawn by all the commotion at the front door, his impassive gaze sliding over Kaoru and Amakasu before settling on Elizabeth.

"You didn't wash the dishes properly."

The woman froze, her face trapped in an expression somewhere between shock and horror.

". . . I missed a spot?"

One moment she was there, the next she had vanished, dashing off into the house to deal with her most terrible mistake.

"I must rectify this at once!"

Kaoru stared at her retreating back dumbfoundedly. She had half a mind to collapse to the ground again, but she didn't think she would be able to get up again if she did that.

"You can come in."

Her head swiveled to the boy, who had already turned around and headed back inside.

She slowly turned towards her partner, who had remained silent throughout that rather stressful ordeal.

He simply shrugged at her inquiring expression and stepped past her into the house. "At least we got an audience," he said.

"I guess we did . . ." she numbly replied.

But at what cost, she mournfully wondered?

xxx

_Elizabeth felt it almost instantly, a sudden presence popping into existence right behind her._

Turning around, she was confronted with a beautiful young girl, locks of purple waving in the wind and a radiant smile shining over her.

"You're a strange one, aren't you?" the new arrival asked.

She tilted her head. "Oh? Whatever do you mean by that?"

"You're not human. In fact, you seem much closer to gods and goddesses such as myself. Yet I can tell that you do not have the regal bearing we do, that you carry yourself as a mortal would."

"That is an apt observation." Her gaze drifted past the other girl, watching the last remains of Erebus slowly dissipating to the wind. "But you didn't come here to just tell me I'm strange, did you?"

The other girl let out a pearly laugh. "I'm afraid not. If only I had the time for such frivolous errands." She sighed. "In any case, I have come not because of what you are, but because of what you have done." Her head nodded towards Erebus's cooling corpse.

Ah. That made sense, she supposed. She did, after all, arrive abruptly in a new world and kill a deity as her first act in said world.

Were there any laws against god-killing in this world? The presence of other deities such as the one in front of her suggested that some sort of order or understanding might've been reached, a treaty that she might have inadvertently broken with her most recent action.

"I'll admit, I'm impressed. You are the first one in a long time to have been able to kill a god and make it stick."

She blinked in surprise. The other girl was impressed? She wasn't in trouble for killing a god? "Is that so?"

"Quite so. Typically, when a Heretic God dies, they simply return to the Domain of Immortality, where their myths and legends reside, to rest and recuperate." Her eyes narrowed. "But you . . . you have stolen the god's essence, trapped it within that Avatar of Death of yours. There will be no regeneration, no resurrection, not so long as you hold it prisoner."

She felt herself relax, letting go of a breath she hadn't known she had been holding. It was good to hear confirmation, good to know that her efforts and those of the Shadow Operatives had not been in vain. There had been a niggling worry, the tiniest hint of doubt that maybe, just maybe, their plan had been faulty from the start, that it really was impossible to kill a god no matter what world they might travel to.

It was good to know that it had not been all for naught.

"While I cannot condemn you for your actions, not when I myself am in support of those who would defend humanity against the tyranny of the Heretic Gods," she continued. "I must warn you that disrupting the balance of the world in such a way can be dangerous. If other Heretic Gods learn of your ability, they might band together to put down what they see as a common threat. Do you understand?"

Elizabeth nodded. "Perfectly," she replied. "But you needn't worry about me abusing my power; this one was . . . special. It had wronged me, taken from me someone whom I hold dear. I have no intention of repeating the act with other gods."

The other girl seemed to relax slightly. "That is good to hear. Now, there is one last thing."

She walked over to Elizabeth, stopping right in front of her, fixating her with those piercing emerald eyes.

"I am Pandora," she declared. "The all-giving woman who bestows upon humanity my children who would defend them against the tyranny of the gods. I grant these champions, these Campione the boons and Authorities they need to stand against fate itself. But you . . ."

Those green eyes roved over her, inspecting every inch.

"Were you anyone else, I would grant you those same boons for what you have done. But for you, killing a god is not so arduous a task, is it?"

She smiled sheepishly as she recalled the many times she had struck down Erebus in her old world. "I'll admit it was fairly trivial."

Pandora snorted. "Trivial might be an understatement. For a human, such a feat would be miraculous, praiseworthy, deserving of reward and recognition. But for you, it seemed more like a chore."

That . . . was quite an apt way of putting it, actually.

"In the interest of fair play, I won't grant you my power; I doubt you would even need it in the first place. Besides, you've managed to steal an Authority for yourself anyway."

She blinked at the unfamiliar term. "What do you mean by that?"

The other girl waved the question aside dismissively. "You'll find out soon enough. But it wouldn't be proper of me to leave you without any sort of compensation, so I shall grant you this one thing."

It was like a sudden change had come over the girl, her once cutesy appearance and demeanor shifting to give way for something more mature, more dignified, more awe-inspiring.

"I am Pandora, the all-giving woman," she declared. "Let all bear witness to this child of mine, she who is neither human nor god and her deed. Let the humans sing their praises, let the gods give their hatred, let the heavens acknowledge thee. I adopt you now as my eighth child, the stranger, the deicide, the nominal Campione who shapes the world as she sees fit!"

Elizabeth waited, expecting some sort of change to come over her. As the silence stretched and no such feeling washed over her, she cocked her head in confusion. "Was that supposed to do something?"

"Not really," the goddess admitted. "As I said, I won't give you the power of a Campione; I simply made you an honorary one instead."

"Oh? For what purpose?"

"Even if you are not truly a Campione, you will still be treated as one. That comes with its own slew of benefits."

"And what might those be?"

Pandora smiled mischievously. "I'll let you find out for yourself."

With that said, the goddess vanished in a breeze of wind, leaving Elizabeth with endless questions swirling about in her mind.

But there was no time for her to dwell on any of that, for there was a much more important matter to attend to.

A matter that awaited her in the Sea of Souls.

The boy she had finally managed to free.

She couldn't wait to see him again.

xxx

Minato considered himself a good listener.

It was a trait that came part and parcel with his quiet nature; after all, it was much easier to pay attention to what others had to say when he felt no need to interject anything himself.

As such, he felt no need to comment once Elizabeth had finished regaling them with the tale of her encounter with Pandora; it was intriguing to hear of what she had gone through, and it raised several questions about the nature of this world, but that was a matter he could bring up later.

The red-haired girl who had introduced herself as Kaoru, however, felt no such constraint.

"So, when you said you weren't a Campione, you meant you were an _honorary _one instead," she said in a flat tone.

"Quite so! I apologize for the misunderstanding, but I was unsure if I would be a suitable replacement when you were seeking the genuine article."

The girl rubbed her eyes with the palm of her hands, exhaustion clear in every line of her body. "No, it's fine. As long as you have the power to kill a Heretic God, it doesn't matter what your title is or isn't."

Elizabeth nodded. "I'm glad that's been cleared up! But before we proceed any further, I was wondering if you would explain more about the supernatural terms that Pandora had mentioned? I'm afraid I'm not very familiar with the concept of 'Campione' or 'Heretic Gods'."

Something flashed through Kaoru's eyes, something cold, calculating, and fleeting, gone before he could discern what it was. He found it curious that she had chosen not to comment on the more _unusual _aspects of Elizabeth's story, such as Pandora's comment on her not being human.

But the girl began to speak, and such concerns were pushed out of his mind as he listened once more. A frown etched itself on his face as the nature of this world was revealed unto him, a nature that troubled him as he heard more and more.

He had thought the Shadows bad, possessing people and coercing them into committing unspeakable atrocities. But these gods, _Heretic _gods, seemed far worse, cruel tyrants who toyed with the lives of people for no reason other than their own amusement.

Gods who had rebelled against their legends, Kaoru said. Gods who escaped to the human world to avoid the confines of their myths, those old, dusty tomes that told them who they were, what they did, how they _lived_. They were like the Shadows, in a way: they both existed because someone couldn't accept who they were and decided to lash out at the world in frustration and rage.

And while an out-of-control Shadow could cause havoc, they couldn't raze entire cities to the ground, not in the way Heretic Gods could, not in the way Heretic Gods were _wont _to do.

As for the Campione, those champions who defended against the disasters that sought to end mankind, they were a little better. Only a little. They were only human, after all; humans had the capacity to be infinitely kind, but they could also be infinitely cruel.

And for some of them, those who found themselves with the power of the gods, those who had ascended above the petty constraints of mortal laws, they could be most cruel indeed.

Surprisingly, only one of the reigning Devil Kings seemed to be a tyrant of any sort. The others were more varied, including a priestess, a martial artist, a superhero, a thief, a swordsman, and a . . . high school student?

"Oh, are you referring to Godou-kun?" Kaoru said when he asked about that outlier. "He is . . . strange, I will admit. All Campione are, naturally, but he is the strangest because of his insistence that he _isn't _strange. In fact, all he wants to do is live a normal life."

A most commendable goal, one that he was actively pursuing himself. But that seemed like it would be much harder than he initially thought if this summary of the world was any indication.

"Which brings me back to my initial point," Kaoru continued. "Now that you know of the role you have found yourself in, do you see why we wished to meet with you?"

Elizabeth nodded, the entire explanation not having fazed her one bit. "Yes, I see now. As a figure of great influence and power residing nearby, you wished to ascertain my intentions, no?"

The man, Amakasu, nodded in return. "Indeed. It is customary for magic associations such as ours to approach local Campione and reach an understanding, perhaps even develop a mutually-beneficial relationship."

"Is that so? I regret to say that I did not intend to become any more involved with the affairs of the supernatural than necessary."

Minato barely glimpsed the fleeting hint of panic that flashed through Kaoru's face at that statement.

"Not even if a Heretic God descended nearby?" the girl asked.

"I would, of course, defend myself and others in the vicinity were that to happen. However, I won't be _looking _for trouble, as some might put it."

He didn't miss the way the girl relaxed a little. Nor did he miss the calculating look that had flashed across her face once again.

"A reasonable decision," Amakasu said. "I assume that means you do not intend to come into conflict with the other resident Campione, Godou-san?"

Elizabeth shook her head. "If he does not bother me, then I shall not bother him."

"A sentiment that I'm sure he shares; I'll be sure to pass the message along to him."

Kaoru was up to something, of that Minato was sure. He didn't know what it entailed or how it involved the two of them, but he knew she was concocting _something_. He wasn't sure if he trusted them, this magic association, but he didn't think there was much choice. They still had a rather pressing issue on their hands, after all, and this would be the easiest way to solve it given their limited connections in this world.

"Would you be willing to do us a favor?" he asked.

Three pairs of eyes immediately darted to him.

"But of course!" Amakasu said. "In return for the Campione's valiant efforts to defend humanity against the Heretic Gods, it is the duty of magic associations such as ours to grant them whatever aid or assistance they might require."

That sounded promising. He could only hope they had the expertise necessary to carry out his request.

"Could you forge identification papers for the two of us?"

The two guests blinked at him, clearly startled by his unusual request.

"We can . . ." Kaoru said slowly. "But if I may be so bold, what do you need them for?"

"Because we do not have any."

The other woman looked boggled. "What? But . . . then, what about this house? How did you purchase it without any sort of identification?"

"Ah, this house? I paid the previous owners for it, of course!" Elizabeth proudly announced.

". . . Paid the previous owners?"

"Yes, indeed. They seemed quite skeptical at first, but when I offered to pay them fifty million yen for it, they looked like they couldn't leave fast enough!"

He blinked. That . . . was not something he had been aware of beforehand either. Then again, he supposed it made sense; he doubted that she was familiar enough with human society to have bought and furnished a house herself from scratch.

Amakasu coughed politely, dispelling the haze of incredulousness around his partner's mind. "If that is your wish, then it shall be done. We will, of course, require the necessary information from yourselves to create these documents; if you'd like, we could do that now?"

Minato shared a brief glance with Elizabeth, who simply smiled and gestured, deferring to him.

"We can do it now," he said.

"Excellent!" The man pulled out a notepad and tore two sheets off. "I've written down the various details we will need," he said as he finished scribbling onto the papers, passing a paper and pen to each of them. "If you will please fill them out . . . ."

He tapped the pen against the table as he quickly scanned the paper's contents. Birthday, name, gender, place of birth, nationality . . . it all seemed like typical, mundane questions. Nothing suspicious.

He had barely filled in half of the makeshift form before a cry of "Done!" was uttered from the other side of the room, and he turned to see that Elizabeth had already finished and was handing over her paper.

Huh. Was he slow at writing, or was she just fast? A bit of a role-reversal of their impromptu food-eating race from before, it seemed.

He turned back to his form, his pen beginning its scribbles once more when another cry interrupted him:

"How do you not know your own birthday?! And what do you mean, you were 'born from the collective unconscious'?!"

His pen paused. Ah. He knew he had been forgetting something.

He hoped these guests of theirs were good at inventing backgrounds too.


	3. I'm happy for you

Minato woke up to find his vision blanketed by darkness. A darkness that was small, furry, and growled in protest when he lifted it from its perch on his face and held it out at arm's-length.

He stared at it, golden feline eyes meeting his own. The bundle of darkness wiggled in his grip, displeased with its situation.

"Where did _you _come from?"

The black cat only grumbled in response, batting at his hand with its paws.

He sighed as he climbed out of bed, keeping the cat nestled in the crook of his arm. He supposed he would have to ask around to hunt down the cat's owner. And if it turned out to be a stray, maybe there was a local animal shelter willing to take it in.

A bout of thrashing interrupted his thoughts as the cat squirmed, meowing in irritation as it sought its freedom with every fiber of its being. He held on tightly, unwilling to let it go and cause any more trouble –

The cat paused in its struggles, shooting him an irritated look.

He stared back, impassive as always. "Just behave."

The cat snorted, glanced away, and _melted _into a pool of liquid shadow.

He stared on in astonishment as the pool slipped through his arms and coalesced on the floor, reforming once more as a cat. It shot him one last glare, huffed, then strutted away with its tail held high.

Minato had never owned a pet before, much less a cat, but he was _pretty sure _that normal cats weren't quite so . . . _malleable_ with their size. Shape. And form.

The cat reached his bedroom door, and he watched as it dipped into the shadows once more, sliding under and bypassing the barrier as easily as breathing.

He shook his head. It was too early for this; maybe the world would make more sense after he got dressed.

No sooner had he turned his back to the door did a loud _hiss _out in the hallway grab his attention, and he looked up just in time to see Elizabeth barge into his room, a familiar black cat held by the scruff of its neck in her hand.

"Good morning, Minato~"

He returned the greeting, his eyes drawn to the curious animal who was hissing in irritation once again.

Noticing his gaze, she smiled in amusement. "I see you've run into Mischief already."

Why yes, yes he had. Waking up with a cat on his face had been a rather unpleasant experience, a misdemeanor that he hoped the feline would not try again any time soon.

"I'm glad to see that Mischief has already taken a liking to you! I do hope the two of you will get along."

Well, he didn't think his luck was _that _bad recently, and why would she be glad about that–?

He blinked as realization dawned on him. Several realizations, in fact. One: the cat's name was Mischief. Two: they were keeping it. Three: the cat belonged to Elizabeth.

. . . Since when did _that _happen? He was pretty sure that when he went to sleep last night, their household had been pet-free. Had she picked up a stray during the night?

When he inquired as to the cat's origins, Elizabeth smiled proudly and declared:

"I made her!"

He blinked. That didn't make any sense. Since when could she do that?

Seeing his confused look, Elizabeth amended her statement. "I suppose the better word might be 'manifest'."

That . . . made slightly more sense.

"So, a Persona then?" he asked.

She shook her head at his speculation. "I believe Mischief is the 'Authority' that Pandora mentioned, which I supposedly stole from Erebus." She tapped her chin. "Although, it is strange; I had thought that only true Campione received Authorities when they slay a god."

When she turned to him like she was expecting him to have the answer, he could only shrug helplessly. He was just as ignorant of this world as she was. But more importantly . . .

"That means you can dismiss her, right?"

Elizabeth's face suddenly grew sheepish. "Ah . . . about that . . . ."

He sighed. He could already tell what was about to come up. "You want to keep her around?"

"If it's not a bother, of course!" She shuffled in place nervously. "I've always wanted a pet, but Igor would never allow me to keep one; he would always say something about how normal animals would be driven mad from the tumultuous waves of the collective human unconscious."

That sounded like a perfectly good reason to refuse her, if only for the poor animal's sake. But now that rabid pets wouldn't be an issue, he supposed he could bear with it for her sake . . .

"Is it housebroken?"

"Worry not! I assure you that she has no need for food or drink, and thus no need to excrete waste!"

That was a relief. If he didn't have to worry about stepping on any cat droppings, he was fine with it.

As if to prove him wrong, the cat wiggled her way out of Elizabeth's grip, launching herself through the air and landing right on top of his head, curling up on her new perch like it was a perfect spot of sunshine.

Minato sighed. He tried to pull her off.

Mischief refused to budge.

He tried harder.

A sharp pain in his scalp let him know Mischief didn't appreciate his efforts.

He looked to Elizabeth for help.

"Oh my, it seems she has grown more attached to you than I could ever have thought! It appears I may have inadvertently created a rival for your attention!"

No help to be found there.

He sighed again. Arriving at school with a cat attached to his head would certainly make for an . . . interesting first impression.

Perfect conversation starter right there.

xxx

Kaoru sat in her office, staring at a cup of tea like it held the solution to all her problems.

She picked it up and downed the contents in a single gulp, an act that she had repeated many times already. As the drink settled in her stomach, she could feel the vivid fragrance overtaking her mind, a spark of an idea that quickly grew and became –

Nothing. She still had nothing. No miraculous flash of insight came to fix all her problems, not that she had really expected one to come after binge-drinking so much already.

She would've preferred alcohol, but apparently, booze and Hime-Mikos just didn't mix. She didn't want any of the trippy, mentally-scarring Spirit Visions that the others had been plagued with after getting plastered.

Or, well, it would be more accurate to say that she _did_, but she knew that incapacitating herself was a terrible idea since the HCC would most likely implode within moments of her passing out blackout drunk.

The woes of responsibility. At least they came with _some _benefits. Well, one in particular.

". . . Are you quite done yet?" a haggard voice asked her.

"No." She slammed the mug back down next to her hapless minion. "Refill it," she ordered.

Amakasu leveled her with a steady glare. "We're out, I'm afraid."

"Then brew another pot!"

"That will take some time."

She groaned and flopped onto her desk. She was too sober for this. All the tea in her system was making her feel strangely calm despite the bundle of nerves and anxiety raging inside her, making for a strange yet intriguing contrast.

Amakasu pulled up a seat next to her, a contemplative frown on his usually calm face. "If I may ask, what's gotten into you this time? You've been like this ever since our meeting with the eighth Campione."

"_Honorary _Campione," she corrected.

He rolled his eyes. "A bit hypocritical of you to make that distinction when you told me to leave it out of the official report."

"Well, just because we don't want the _other_ magic associations nosing around the anomaly we've got on our hands doesn't mean we can afford to forget that distinction ourselves."

"I doubt anyone would care to draw such a distinction; she could annihilate both us and Heretic Gods in equal measure regardless of how we refer to her."

She let out a low chuckle. "I suppose that's true," she whispered.

He crossed his arms, leaning back and staring down on her like a parent would a naughty child. "You're thinking about her." It was not a question.

She glared at him. She wasn't a kid anymore, damn it. He didn't need to act so overbearingly towards her anymore.

"Yeah," she admitted begrudgingly.

Amakasu sighed, sensing her foul mood and easing up on the tension. "Penny for your thoughts?" he quipped.

And wasn't that the crux of the matter? Her thoughts had been a mess ever since that meeting, and they had only gotten worse as she brooded while her partner went and got those identification papers sorted out.

"Hey . . ." she whispered. "If I got our whole organization killed because I pissed off a Campione, would you be mad at me?"

He stared at her. Slowly, he took off his glasses, fixating her with tired, world-weary eyes. "That depends." He paused. "Would our sacrifices be in vain?"

She breathed out. ". . . Hopefully not."

"And what exactly would we be risking our lives for?"

She closed her eyes. "The deaths of every Heretic God."

His eyes closed as well, realizing what had been plaguing her all this time. "I see. So, this is how you've chosen to interpret your vision, then."

Kaoru nodded slowly. How else was she supposed to interpret it, really? She received a vision of a world where Heretic Gods and Campione did not exist despite being permanent fixtures of their world for so long.

And then she met a strange Campione who claimed that she could permanently kill Heretic Gods.

It wasn't hard to put two and two together; if Elizabeth killed every Heretic God in existence, they would cease to exist. And without gods to fight, there would be no need for Campione, and they, too, would eventually die out with no new gods for aspiring god-slayers to slay.

The only problem was:

"_I regret to say that I did not intend to become any more involved with the affairs of the supernatural than necessary."_

A sardonic smile graced her lips. The one time she wished a Campione _was _a crazy battle-maniac, they turned out to be a pacifist like Godou. Such was her luck.

"Am I correct in presuming that the possibility of our organization drawing Elizabeth-sama's ire might have something to do with your schemes to involve her in conflicts she has no wish of partaking in? Schemes you are brainstorming at this very moment?"

Kaoru chuckled. He knew her too well, it seemed.

"Yeah. Pretty much."

Amakasu looked as if he had aged several decades upon hearing her confirmation. "That . . . might pose a bit of a problem. While I have no qualms about laying down my life for the sake of the greater good, not everyone in the HCC will be happy with your risky proposal."

Kaoru scowled. "They knew what they were getting into when they joined a magic association."

"Engaging in diplomacy with Campione is a far cry from participating in a ruse that is very likely to bring her wrath down on us if she discovers it."

"I will take full responsibility for any fallout that might occur."

"A declaration that the Campione may not recognize; who is to say that she won't decide to make an example out of our entire organization, even if the fault could be laid at the feet of one member?"

She grumbled and looked away. "Then what do you want me to do? Leave and do everything myself?"

A dry laugh. "Nothing so drastic, I assure you. I am simply asking that you inform the rest of the organization of your plan. That way, they can choose to decide if they wish to participate."

"You want me to put all my cards down on the table? Who the heck would willingly join me in my suicide mission?"

"More than you might think." He gave her a wry smile. "Besides, it is entirely possible that your plan goes off without a hitch and we escape any repercussions."

She snorted. "Only in your dreams. This is a plan that won't stop until _every _Heretic God is dead. Every. Last. One." She sighed and leaned back in her chair. "Face it, she'll find out at one point or another. The only question is how many we can get her to kill before then."

"A little bit of optimism wouldn't hurt, you know."

"Weren't you the one who didn't want me to sugarcoat it for the others?"

"I didn't say that; I merely suggested that you use a white lie instead of outright lying."

She laughed. "And here I thought _I _was the devious one."

Amakasu smiled. "I _was _your mentor at one point if you remember."

"Yeah, but all you taught me was boring stuff I never used again." She shook her head. "Anyway, I suppose this means you should set up the conference room for me, then."

"As you wish." He stood up and walked away, pausing briefly at the door.

Kaoru couldn't see his face, but she knew what expression he bore at that moment: that all-too-familiar, kind, encouraging look that he had worn the day they first met.

"Even if no one else is willing to join you on your quest, even if no one else is willing to lay down their life for your cause, know that you will _always_ have my support."

He slipped through the door, leaving her to brood alone in her office once more.

She swiveled in her chair, reaching out to touch a framed photo that stood on her desk, one that depicted scenes of a simpler time, a happier time.

She caressed the image with her thumb, gazing upon the faces of those she had lost and those she didn't wish to lose.

"Yeah," she whispered. "I know."

She set the photo aside, pulling paper and pen from her desk and getting to work.

She hated preparing speeches. But this time, just once, she was going to put her all into it.

After all, she knew that if he died because she couldn't pull in enough helpers . . .

She would never be able to forgive herself.

xxx

Godou was elated. Ecstatic. Cloud nine was too short to describe the highs he had reached this moment.

Alas, his brief state of rapture was interrupted when Erica showed up during their lunch break to drag him into an empty corridor for some "private time."

His classmates had shot him some rather suggestive looks, but he knew from experience that his girlfriend's fierce smile promised that the ensuing conversation would be anything but pleasant.

When she finally turned around, satisfied that they were far away enough from the crowds, the frigid glare he was faced with felt like it would freeze him over.

"I have a feeling I know what you're thinking about," she said. "And I don't like it one bit."

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. Erica meant well, he knew. To her, she was simply trying to help him adjust to the inevitable life of conflict all Campione faced.

But he didn't want that. He hadn't _asked _to become a Campione, hadn't asked to get drawn into this world filled with gods and crazy Campione and magic associations. All he wanted to do was live a normal life and die a normal death.

Was that too much to ask for?

"Is it really so bad?" he asked. "There's another Campione in the area, and she doesn't want anything to do with me for once! And if she's as strong as the HCC claims, then I can just leave any Heretic Gods that pop up nearby to her."

It was the perfect scenario; he didn't want to be the King of Japan, which meant he was only all too ready to pass the mantle over to someone more suited for the role. Then, he could sit back, relax, and enjoy life the way it was meant to be enjoyed.

But the way Erica stalked towards him, growling all the way, made it quite clear that everything he just said was wrong and she was about to tell him _why_.

"Don't use the other Campione as an excuse to put off your responsibilities." She jabbed a finger into his chest. "You're a Campione now, and whether you like it or not, there's no running away from it. Trouble _will _find its way towards you, whether it be Heretic Gods or other Campione, and I won't let you be unprepared for when that time comes because you've somehow succumbed to the illusion that you can simply live a normal life!"

He held up his hands in a placating gesture. "I know, I know. And when that time comes, I'll take care of it, but that doesn't mean I need to go out _looking _for trouble."

She scowled at him. "And just how do you intend to grow stronger if you do not go out there and hone your skills? If you simply wait until you're attacked, it'll be too late; not all enemies will be so kind as to let you retreat, and when that happens, you better be prepared to stand your ground!"

"I've held my own fine so far, haven't I? Just have some faith in me."

"A disparity in strength cannot be overcome by _faith _alone."

Godou sighed. "Well, what do you want me to do? Recklessly look for fights at every opportunity and cause massive collateral damage in the process?"

"If that's what it takes, then yes."

He stared at her. "You can't be serious."

She crossed her arms in front of her. "I am, in fact, deadly serious. You won't learn from your mistakes unless you make some in the first place, and it's better to get them out of the way now before any stronger enemies appear."

"But what about the damage that would cause? When I sparred with you, I destroyed the Roman Colosseum! It would be way worse if I fought with a Heretic God!"

"You needn't concern yourself with that; it is, after all, the duty of magic associations to clean up the messes left behind your bouts."

"That doesn't mean I want to make a mess in the first place!"

"The alternative to fighting a Heretic God is to let it run free. To rampage and destroy human lives as it pleases. Would you rather let them do that?"

He gritted his teeth. How could she think he would be okay with that? "No, of course not!"

She smirked. "Then you don't have much choice in the matter, do you?"

A low growl emanated from his throat. "I'm a Campione, aren't I? That means I can run around doing whatever I want, and no one can stop me. That means I can run around doing _nothing_,and _no one_ can stop me."

He immediately regretted his words, spoken in the heat of the moment, when he saw her eyes cloud over, when her face flash-froze into that icy, chilling smile that sent a shiver up his spine despite his divine status.

"Yes . . ." she said coldly. "I suppose that's true, isn't it? No matter what I say, you can just ignore me and do whatever the hell you want." Her smile fractured. "Fine, then. Be the selfish, indulgent Campione that I know you are. Be the cowardly Campione who clings to the remnants of his old life because he can't handle the new life he's been thrust into!"

She brushed past him, not even sparing him a parting glance. He wanted so badly to stop her, to grab her and apologize for his outburst.

But he restrained himself; he knew her well enough that saying anything more at this point would only make matters worse.

Godou sighed, a desolate, lonely sound that quickly faded away in the empty corridor Erica had pulled him into for their little talk.

"A selfish coward, huh?" he whispered.

She thought he wanted to hold onto the last, tattered shreds of his sense of normality. And she wasn't wrong; if he had a choice, he would give up his status as a Campione in a heartbeat.

But that wasn't the only reason for his reluctance. Not anymore, at least.

"_Be the selfish, indulgent Campione that I know you are."_

He supposed he _was _being selfish, in a way. He was selfish, because he cared more about _her _than he did the faceless masses he would be protecting whenever he fought a Heretic God.

And not just her: Yuri, Liliana, Ena . . . they were all precious to him, yet they were all such stubborn girls; they would all gladly follow him into battle against foes far beyond them, all in the name of giving him whatever aid they could.

And he was afraid. Afraid that a careless attack from either side would pulverize them, rending their bodies with chaotic divine energy until naught but ashes remained.

He didn't want that to happen. He couldn't even _bear _to think about the possibility. So, he would do his best to keep them out of danger, and since he knew that if _he _got in trouble they would inevitably show up, his only recourse was to avoid trouble at all costs.

Yet it seemed his gambit to avoid trouble had caused another sort of trouble to fall on him instead.

Godou sighed as he slumped against the wall, rubbing his face with his hands. This wasn't a situation that had an easy solution; even if he told Erica about the truth of his reluctance –

No. He couldn't do that. If he did . . . if he did . . .

He was afraid of what they might do. More specifically . . .

He was afraid they would leave him. That those beautiful, wonderful girls he had met, believing themselves to be holding him back, would cut ties with him for what they believed to be his own good.

He didn't think he could handle it if they did.

Because if his duties as a Campione would truly consume his life as Erica claimed, it would mean the world to him if someone who understood his struggles was by his side. Someone who would comfort him after a hard-fought battle, someone who he wouldn't need to hide his burdensome role from.

Those girls of his were that someone. And he would do anything to protect them.

He shook his head. Now wasn't the time to get wrapped up in such dark thoughts. School was still in session, and he would need to smile and grin to get through the rest of it.

As he kicked off the wall and began heading back to his classroom, he noticed someone loitering around in the hallway, looking around with a hint of confusion.

"Hey there," he said, walking towards them. "Are you lost or something?"

The blue-haired boy turned towards him with a mildly sheepish look. "I am," he admitted. "I just transferred here today."

"Oh? Well, tell me your classroom number and I'll show you where it is."

The boy dutifully informed him of such, and Godou perked up in surprise. "Hey, that's the same class I'm in! Might as well introduce myself early, then." He held out a hand. "Godou Kusanagi. Nice to meet you."

The boy raised an eyebrow at the mention of his name. "Minato Arisato. Likewise." They shook hands.

They walked together, the clip-clop of their shoes echoing in the otherwise empty hallway. As they traversed the corridor, Godou found himself observing the other boy, taking in his lax posture, his easy gait, and the . . . odd markings around his hair?

"What's with the claw marks around your hair?" he asked.

Minato made a pained grimace.

"Don't ask."

xxx

Minato was used to the whispers.

He had transferred to many schools before, bouncing between them aimlessly with a hollow mind and a hollow heart. And every time, he had been the talk of the class for a day or two before they forgot about him, letting him meld back into the shadows of obscurity.

Thus, he _knew _when someone's interest in him was more than just idle curiosity.

It was obvious, really; she was the only one still boring holes in the back of his head even when everyone else at lunch had gone back to chatting with their friends about various mundane topics. Well, she and her friend, to be exact, although the other one was less glaring and more occasionally shooting him curious looks.

He didn't understand what their fixation with him was, but he didn't really care as long as they didn't bother him about it.

Which is why, of course, the blonde girl who had been giving him the evil eye all this time chose that moment to pick up her tray, walk over, and plop down in a seat next to his.

She regaled him with a dazzling smile. "I hope you don't mind if I sit here."

Outwardly, he shrugged and gestured for her to go ahead even as he internally wondered if this was Mischief's punishment for his rather _forceful _removal of her from her favorite perch this morning.

The whispers started back up again. He did his best to ignore them, a feat that was just a tad bit difficult given some of the . . . less than school-appropriate speculation flying around.

"I shall be joining you as well."

A silver-haired girl, whom he recognized as the other one who had been watching him, swept into the other seat next to him, hemming him in between the two girls.

He grimaced. Getting up and leaving right after the two of them had sat down would almost certainly be construed as a slight to both of them, one that the rumor mill would have fun spinning about for days, perhaps even _weeks_ to come.

What a nefarious scheme the two girls had concocted. He would just have to grin and bear with it, then.

Looking closer at the two girls, he realized they had been present when he had introduced himself to his class. Maybe they were just classmates trying to be friendly?

One glance at the blonde girl's predatory smile quickly disabused him of that notion.

"My name is Erica Blandelli, and this is my friend, Liliana Kranjcar," the blonde girl said, gesturing to her friend who gave him a quick nod. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Arisato-san."

He cautiously nodded. "Likewise."

Erica's smile widened, like a lion who had sensed weakness in her prey. "The two of us transferred here not that long ago, so if you have any trouble adjusting, feel free to ask us for help."

"That is very kind of you."

She nodded sagely. "Quite so. But while we're here, I thought it'd be nice if we could get to know each other a little better. We _are _classmates, after all."

He shrugged in acceptance. If they just wanted to ask him mundane questions, he would oblige.

"Why did you come to this school?"

"To graduate."

Her eyes narrowed. "Why _this _school in particular?"

He raised an eyebrow. "It's the closest."

"Is that the only reason?"

"Should there be another reason?"

Erica's fingers drummed on the table, clearly agitated. "You're not playing dumb, are you?"

"I am not," he confirmed.

She sighed. "Then I suppose I'll have to be blunt." She leaned in closer to him. "Are you here to spy on Godou?"

He blinked at her. ". . . Why would I do that?"

"Because he's a Campione."

Oh. Suddenly, a lot of things made much more sense.

"Should you really be saying that . . . ?" He gestured towards the crowds of ordinary students surrounding them.

"Worry not," Liliana piped up from behind him. "Anyone listening in would simply hear us talking about typical, everyday topics."

Erica focused her glare on him. "Answer the question."

He sighed. "No, I'm not."

Her steadfast glare made it plainly obvious that she didn't believe him.

"Even if he's a Campione, what reason is there for me to spy on him?" he asked.

"To gather information for your liege, of course."

". . . My liege?"

"The Campione you serve," Liliana explained.

He frowned. "She is not my liege."

"Oh? Then what is she to you?" Erica asked.

He thought of the advice Elizabeth had given him as he ascended the dark tower. He thought of the fun they had on their outings, culminating in that final, passionate night. He thought of the relief he felt when he opened his eyes after an eternity of torment and saw her again.

". . . A friend."

Some might think of that word as an oversimplification of their bonds, but for someone like him, that word was more than enough.

The two girls looked at him with skepticism, but he silently bore the brunt of their gazes.

Erica finally backed down with a scowl. "Fine. But we'll be keeping an eye on you –"

Godou ran up to their table, a harried-looking Yuri trailing behind him. "Hey! Sorry about the wait; Yuri needed my help with something."

From the furtive looks he saw Erica and Yuri exchange, he could hazard a guess that Yuri hadn't needed as much "help" as she was supposed to have.

The other boy glanced at the three of them sitting together. "Ah, I see you two have gotten acquainted with Arisato-san already. Should I be worried?" he asked with a teasing smile.

Liliana shot up, her cheeks already flushed. "Wha – what?! Of – of course not!"

Erica's scowl grew fiercer. "You shouldn't be associating with him so readily." She jabbed a finger at Minato.

Godou frowned. "What? Why not?"

"Because he might be here to spy on you!"

". . . And why would he do that?"

Minato snorted. It was good to see that at least _one _other person wasn't jumping to conclusions.

Erica gave Godou a deadpan look. ". . . You didn't read the report, did you?"

The other boy looked away sheepishly. "I was going to do that later," he admitted.

Yuri puffed out her cheeks. "I told you to read that this morning!"

"Sorry, sorry; I got too excited from Amakasu-san's message." He turned towards Minato. "So, I'm guessing you're acquainted with the eighth Campione, then?"

Minato nodded.

"Pleased to meet you! Well, again at least." Godou sat down across from him. "I would introduce myself, but I think you already know who I am."

Erica's scowl intensified, promising retribution later. "And there you go again, ignoring my advice as usual." She stood up. "Let's go, girls. Our _King _is off doing whatever he wants again."

She stormed off, leaving Yuri and Liliana to glance uncertainly between her and Godou.

The boy chuckled weakly. "I guess you two better go after her; she'll blow her fuse at this rate, so maybe try to calm her down, yeah?"

Liliana straightened up. "As you wish!" She dashed off.

Yuri gave Godou one last lingering look before taking off as well.

The Campione sighed as he leaned back in his chair, looking much wearier after their departure.

Minato raised an eyebrow. "Trouble in paradise?"

The other boy laughed. "I'm sorry you had to see that. As for what that was about, well . . . let's call it a difference in ideals."

He nodded, remembering what Kaoru had said. "You want to live a normal life. But she wants you to embrace your position as a Campione."

"Oh, you know that already? Well, I guess it's not really a secret or anything." A sigh. "I didn't ask for this, y'know? I was just a regular high-school student, living out his regular, everyday life, and then all this gets dumped on me out of the blue. Suddenly, I'm fighting life-or-death battles with gods on a regular basis, and if I lose, hundreds of thousands of people might die. How's that for pressure?"

Godou's plight reminded him of his own introduction to the supernatural. A wandering orphan, bouncing around from place-to-place, before finally finding himself embroiled in a mission to exterminate the Shadows and save humanity from its own despair.

He had relished the chance to finally have a purpose in life. But not everyone sought out such grand purposes, and Godou, it seemed, was one such individual.

"Then why not simply quit?" he asked. "If Campione are truly above others as I have heard, there is no one who can stop you."

Godou winced. "Well, it's not that simple." He rested his head on one hand. "Before I became a Campione, I always thought I heard about natural disasters on the news an awful lot. Every week or so, there would be another forest fire, another earthquake, or another tsunami that claimed dozens or hundreds of lives. It's only now that I know that those were all actually Heretic Gods." He looked down at his hands. "There are only a few of us, we who can stand up to the gods and quell their rampages. And even _we _can't be everywhere at once. So if I stop . . . how many would die if I quit? How many innocents would die for my selfishness?"

Another dilemma. Minato had been faced with a similar choice once, being forced to bear a burden that he had not wished to carry. He had chosen to sacrifice himself then, not because he wished to save the millions of innocents that inhabited the world, but to save the cherished few whom he called friend.

In his selfishness, he had committed the most selfless act of all.

There was one easy way to answer Godou's question.

"If your loved ones died because you did not fight, would you be able to forgive yourself?"

Godou's fists clenched. "No."

He nodded. "There is your answer."

The boy's fists clenched tighter, his knuckles whitening. "It's not that simple."

He quirked an eyebrow.

"What if . . ." Godou said slowly. "What if by fighting, I put them in danger anyway? What if I get them killed because I got in over my head, and they die trying to help me?"

Minato knew what it was like to worry about his comrades. Every trip into Tartarus was fraught with peril, every floor they ascended paved the way for new enemies that might surprise them and kill them.

He had been lucky. In the end, they had all survived, and he hadn't been forced to make his sacrifice knowing that it had been too late for one of them, that there was someone he had failed to save.

Not everyone would be that lucky. But there were few alternatives.

"If you did not fight, would they stop fighting as well?"

"No . . . they wouldn't," Godou replied despondently.

"Then, when they fight, wouldn't you rather be at their side? So that you may catch them when they fall and shield them when they falter?"

The other boy's eyes widened. ". . . I see," he whispered. "It was that simple all along, huh?" He chuckled. "Thanks for that. I guess all the divine power I got was screwing with my head."

Minato smiled. It was nice, being able to dispense advice like this. He had finished his own journey, overcome all the trials in his path and come out stronger for it. Now, he could help others on the same path, guide them towards the future they wanted to seize with their own hands.

"It's funny," Godou said. "Here I am, complaining about being a Campione when it's probably the only thing that let me meet them in the first place."

He tilted his head. "You mean those girls?"

"Yeah. Erica, Yuri, Liliana, Ena . . . they're all wonderful people. Even though they can be difficult at times, even though they can be unreasonable and quirky, there's something magical about being around them. Like I found something I never knew I was missing." He sighed. "And sometimes I wonder, what if I had never become a Campione? What if I had stayed a regular, ordinary, high-schooler? Would they still be interested in me? Would I even _meet _them?" He chuckled weakly. "Sorry, I probably shouldn't be thinking such depressing thoughts, huh?"

Such a line of thought was indeed depressing. What if, on that fateful day so long ago, a fragment of Death hadn't been sealed inside him? What if he had never become a Persona user, never joined SEES in their quest to clear the dark tower? Would he become a stranger to them, just another faceless classmate to lump in with the crowd? Were the bonds he had forged with them really so fragile as to be broken by a mere stroke of fate?

. . . No. He refused. He refused to believe that their time together could be so easily undone. After all, he knew better than anyone that bonds held power, enough power to shape the fate of an entire world. When faced against their resolve, Nyx and the Fall, their prophesied fate, had been the ones to yield.

"You would find each other again."

Godou looked at him in surprise. "What?"

He looked away, out the window, staring into a place far, far away. "Even in another world, a world without Campione and without Heretic Gods, you would find each other again. So long as your bonds are strong enough, so long as they are forged in the fires of hardship and tempered in the waters of happiness, you would find each other again. Even if fate itself tried to pull you apart, your invisible ties would draw you back together again."

He would know. His close-knit bonds with SEES were the only reason he was standing here today. Even when he sacrificed himself, isolating himself somewhere mortal hands couldn't touch, they had found a way to reach him. To save him.

The other boy was staring at him in wonderment. "Is that so?" He closed his eyes, not asking how Minato could know for sure. Perhaps he could simply tell from the conviction in his voice. ". . . That's good to hear."

The bell rang, signifying the end of their lunch break. The two of them stood up, one feeling calmer and more certain, one happy to have been of help.

As Minato turned away, a voice stopped him in his tracks.

"Hey."

He turned back to see Godou smiling at him sheepishly.

"Thanks for the pep talk. I think I really needed it."

He smiled in response.

xxx

Minato blinked.

He had just come back from school, ready to relax after a long day, only to find that a new building had popped up next to his home. A building that was blue, silky, and had the rather conspicuous name of "The Velvet Room" emblazoned out front.

It was obvious as to who was behind this.

As he opened the door and stepped in, a cat immediately fell on his face.

He sighed as the black furball crawled over his face, climbing to her favored perch on top of his head.

"You were waiting for that, weren't you?"

Mischief didn't deign to answer, choosing instead to nestle in his hair and purr softly.

"Oh, my first guest! Come in, come in."

He walked forward, approaching the counter where a figure was hunched over, rummaging around in a box before straightening up and revealing the woman he knew and loved.

"Good afternoon, Minato! How was school?"

"Fine." He glanced around, noticing the various shelves filled with books lining the room. "You opened up your own library?"

"Bookstore, actually."

He tilted his head in surprise.

"Apparently, becoming a librarian requires me to have qualifications," Elizabeth explained. "Qualifications I can only acquire by partaking in your education system for several years, which I find to be a droll prospect. No offense."

"None taken." As a student himself, he could personally attest that her impression of the school system wasn't entirely inaccurate.

"I decided that the next best option would be to open a bookstore! Peddling wares is a time-honored occupation that any layman can pick up."

He nodded. "And the building?"

"Ah, I asked the History Compilation Committee to help me out with that. I even offered to pay them for the service, but they assured me that such compensation was unnecessary."

He glanced around, taking in the structure that had apparently been erected in the span of a school day. "Awfully fast of them."

"Indeed! I was surprised as well, but the workers told me they had quite a bit of experience quickly rebuilding parts of the city after a Heretic God attack." She swept her arm out. "In any case, feel free to look around! I heard from the others that reading was a favored pastime of yours, was it not?"

He nodded absentmindedly as he scanned the shelves. Being a quiet person, he had been naturally drawn to places where he could mind his own business without being disturbed. And what better place for his purposes other than a library?

Minato had spent long hours in libraries, reading book after book with his headphones on, flipping pages to the steady beat of his music. After his introduction to the Dark Hour, he hadn't had much time for such activities anymore, but now that his mission was over, he could afford to relax more.

His hand stilled, fingers tracing the title of a particular book that had caught his attention. It was a bland book, with no cover image and no author.

The title was:

_The Dark Hour_

He flipped it open and started reading. It was about a boy who had been lost at a young age, finding his place in the world. A boy who met people who would become lifelong friends and a tale of the quest they undertook to climb a dark tower and slay the evil god at the top.

It was a book about him.

"I see you found that one."

Elizabeth approached him, a small, gentle smile adorning her face. "I asked your friends about the time you all spent together. The ups and downs, the victories and defeats, the joy and sorrow . . . I compiled it all in here." She glanced at the book he held with fondness. "This way, even if we're a world apart, even if our memories slowly fade, we'll still remember them."

He felt a hitch in his throat. That was . . . it was like a burden had been lifted from his shoulders, one that he hadn't even known was there. It was something he had always known, deep down. After all, even if he claimed that he would never forget them, never forget the dear friends he had stood with through thick and thin, the inexorable march of time was not always so kind as to adhere to his wishes.

He would've forgotten them. Eventually, those cherished memories and happy times would've vanished into the ether. It was inevitable.

But now . . . now he had a failsafe. Tangible, concrete proof. Proof that his friends existed. Proof that they had lived. Proof that the world, the _Universe_ he held inside of him had not been created alone.

He would be eternally grateful for this gift.

"Thank you . . ." he managed to utter.

A small, sad smile. "It was my pleasure."

He slumped down in a chair at one of the reading tables set up in the store, putting on the new headphones he had bought, taking care to avoid disturbing Mischief. The music here was different, but he found himself quickly becoming accustomed to it, steady beats punctuating his reading as he pored over page after page of nostalgic memories.

Enraptured in that trance-like state, Minato felt true, blissful peace.

Alas, that peace was not meant to last as the sound of the door opening heralded the arrival of another guest, one whose eyes quickly homed in on the two of them.

"Elizabeth-sama." The man bowed. "Apologies for the intrusion, but Sayanomiya-san wishes to speak with you – it pertains to the paperwork for this bookstore."

"Hmm? I thought that had been taken care of already?"

The man grimaced. "It appears there has been a slight error . . . it would be best if you could come to rectify things yourself, Elizabeth-sama."

"Oh, very well then. I shall be there shortly." She whirled around to face him. "Come along now, Minato!"

He tore his gaze away from his book, one finger pointing at himself in confusion. "Me?"

"Of course! You are my guide to the human world, are you not? I may require your assistance to solve whatever issue has arisen."

He closed his book with a sigh. Regarding legal matters, he knew about as much as the next person, but he supposed that was still infinitely better than Elizabeth's nonexistent knowledge base about the human legal system.

He hoped it didn't take too long; he wanted to get back to his book as soon as possible.


	4. Your way is my way

Erica's blade stabbed through the air, a ruthless strike that was delivered without hesitation. She pulled her blade back, readied herself, then struck again. And again. And again.

Every blow pushed her closer to perfection, honed her surgical precision to a deadly point for the day she would need it in battle. In the background, the sounds of children playing and families chattering filled her ears, unaware of the swordswoman training nearby.

She liked practicing her drills in a park. It helped remind her of what she was fighting for, that these were _real _people she was defending. And sometimes, when she took a break from her training, she liked to close her eyes and imagine that she was simply another kid playing around, another daughter on a trip to the park with her family.

That was the closest she would be able to get to the real experience; after all, her parents were gone, she had no siblings, and her uncle was a broken shell of a man.

Her grip on her weapon tightened. Whenever she thought about her uncle, a mixture of anger and resentment always bubbled up inside her. She was furious with him. Furious not because he had made a mistake, but because he couldn't recover from it.

Her uncle had been one of the greatest Knights of his time. Emboldened by his many successes and Campione lineage, he had foolishly tried to face a Heretic God head-on and reclaim their family's legacy. But instead, he ended up deceived, beguiled by a god disguised as a human, and inadvertently helped it slaughter thousands of innocents. What was worse was that he hadn't even had the _decency_ to face up to his failure and attempt to redeem himself afterward – no, he'd tried to resign, to run away, but when the leaders of the Copper-Black-Cross refused to let him go, he had sunken into a drunken stupor and contented himself with being another skeleton in their closet.

Erica would never forgive him for that, for running away the instant he was met with the stinging taste of defeat.

It was why she had been so hard on Godou. In hindsight, she knew she had been too pushy, but she couldn't help it.

Godou was too soft. Like her uncle, he had an idealistic view of the world, a world where justice and fairness actually meant something.

But in this world, this dangerous, moonlit world where divine retribution struck wherever it wished, there was no such thing as justice or fairness. Her uncle had learned that the hard way.

She didn't want Godou to make the same mistake. He had already started down that path, striking down a Heretic God . . .

And letting the goddess _go_.

Showing mercy? To a Heretic God? She had vehemently opposed his decision, but he had stubbornly refused to budge. And before she could bring out her blade and finish the deed herself, the goddess had already slipped off, free to concoct whatever nefarious scheme she so desired.

The goddess would be back, she knew. Gods were prideful, arrogant creatures; to be defeated was the ultimate humiliation for them, and gods could hold grudges for a long, long time.

Normally, when a Heretic God was slain, it would take many decades before they could descend again on the mortal realm. By then, their slayer would've grown much stronger, and they would have to approach their nemesis much more cautiously.

But the escaped goddess didn't have that uncertainty. She knew perfectly well what Godou was capable of, and she was free to strike at any time.

That was why Godou had to become stronger. And quickly. If Athena – no, if that _snake_ struck before he was ready, before he was properly prepared –

Her blade thrust through the air, stabbing forward like it might pierce through her frustrations and grant her relief.

"Why won't he just _listen _to me!" she growled.

She held that position for a few moments, letting the tension seep out of her limbs, leaving her feeling drained. Drilling always did help her cool her head.

Soft footsteps crunched the grass behind her, and her wards helpfully told her that the person she least wanted to see right now was approaching.

"What do you want?" she asked.

"I just came here to talk," Godou replied.

She turned around, rolling her eyes. "Congratulations, we're talking. Can I go now?"

"I mean – clear the air! I wanted to clear the air between us."

Ah, that's right, she had stormed off in a huff the last time they were together, hadn't she? She supposed that was her fault for letting her passion get the better of her.

She opened her mouth to apologize.

"It's not fair, is it?" he said.

Her mouth clamped shut. What was he talking about?

"You spent your whole life training, drilling and practicing just as hard as I saw you do today. I probably can't even begin to imagine the thousands of hours of blood, sweat, and tears it took for you to get to where you are now. But despite all that, despite all your hard work, you can still do nothing but run away from the overwhelming foes you wish to face."

He . . . he wasn't wrong. It was a fact that she had long since come to accept, a fact that every member of the moonlit world had to face one day, that even their best efforts born of tireless dedication would barely scratch the behemoths that roamed this world.

"And then here I come in, a clueless kid who just happened to be in the right place at the right time. And just like that, with a stroke of luck so great that I still can't believe it actually happened, I became a Campione, one of the strongest beings on this planet. Someone like me, a person who had woken up that day thinking that absolutely nothing out of the ordinary would happen." He looked at her, eyes clouded over with some indescribable emotion. "It doesn't seem fair, does it? You worked so hard so you could fight against the Heretic Gods, but you can still barely scratch them. Meanwhile, here I am, a god-slayer who never trained to fight against a god until _after _I've become a Campione." He let out a low chuckle. "If I were you, seeing someone in my position, squandering his potential because of petty, selfish reasons –

"I think I would be furious too," he finished.

Erica was speechless. He – He was right. All this time, she had been urging him to become stronger not because she was concerned about him (at least, not _only _out of concern) . . .

But because it was what _she _would've been doing if she were in his shoes.

She was used to this kind of life. As a Knight, she had grown up with dedication and discipline as her constant companions. She had grown up knowing of the terrible threat they faced, that one day, she may be asked to lay down her life so that dozens of others might have a chance to live.

If the power of a Campione had fallen into her lap, she would've done all she could to cultivate it as fast as possible because she _knew _how important it was, _knew _what kind of difference it could make.

But he didn't know. He _couldn't _have known. She was pushing her unreasonably high expectations onto him, and it wasn't fair to either of them.

"Then . . ." Her throat was dry, but she pushed her words through all the same. "Then . . . what will you do now?"

He gazed in her eyes, a soft, warm radiance, and smiled.

"I'm going to become someone worthy of standing by your side."

Her heart skipped a beat.

"I'm not going to run away anymore," he declared. "I may not be able to earn this power that was given to me, but I can work to live up to it. I'm going to work hard so one day, I can stare straight in your eyes and say, without hesitation, that I _deserve_ to be where I am in this world today."

His smile was so innocent, so pure. He truly believed that hard work alone was enough to make his dreams come true, that hard work alone could stave off the divine vengeance of this world.

It was so optimistic, so _naïve_. But even so, she wanted to believe in that too. She _wanted_ him to prove her wrong, to banish those dark, cynical thoughts whispering that it was not enough, that it would _never _be enough –

That was why she stayed by his side, after all.

". . . I look forward to that day," she whispered.

In that fleeting moment, she could feel the connection between them strengthen, reinforced by their iron wills and strong convictions. And as they basked in each other's glow, that tender moment shared between them, she wondered if it might turn into something _more_, something . . . _passionate_.

"There you are! I fi – finally found you – !"

The spell was broken, the trance faded, and Erica wanted nothing more than to throttle whoever it was that had ruined the moment.

"Y – Yuri-san!" Godou put his hands in his pockets, putting on his best innocent face. "W – What brings you here?"

Yuri ran up to them, panting, narrowing her eyes as she noticed their awkward expressions. "Am I interrupting something?"

"Nope!" Erica hastily disabused her of that notion. "We were just clearing the air between us, that's all."

"Oh, you two made up, then? That's great!"

Indeed it was, and it would've been even better if _someone _hadn't suddenly shown up, but she supposed there was no helping it now.

"So, what brings you here? You look like you had a reason for seeking us out," Godou said.

"Oh, right." Yuri perked up, turning to him. "The History Compilation Committee has a gift for him."

A gift? For Godou?

Erica smirked. It was about time the HCC started treating him more like the king he was supposed to be!

"Really? What is it?"

"An all-expense paid vacation to Hawaii over the weekend."

Erica's smile came crashing down.

"A paid vacation trip?! To Hawaii?!" Godou looked ecstatic. "Hell yeah!"

Oh dear. It seemed her slacker of a boyfriend was trying to laze around again. Better reign him in.

"~Oh, Godou-kun~"

Her chilly voice caused him to stiffen, and he turned to look at her with a face as pale as a sheet.

"Ah, Erica . . . I take it . . . you're not exactly pleased about this."

'Not pleased about this' was putting it lightly. She was sure a tick mark had appeared on her forehead somewhere.

"Did you forgot about the discussion we _just _had?"

"Oh, right, about that . . . can I, maybe, uh, start on that _after _this vacation?" Godou asked in a hopeful tone.

As her face transformed into a specter worthy of being the subject of Japanese urban legends, he quickly changed tactics.

"Wait, you can come along too!" He paused, quickly turning to Yuri, whispering. "I can bring other people with me, right?"

Yuri grimaced, nodding reluctantly. "You can, quite conveniently, bring _four _people with you."

"There, see?" Godou turned back to her with a smile. "This'll be a nice chance for us all to relax. Have you ever been on vacation before, Erica?"

She paused. Come to think of it, she had never had the pleasure of traveling for fun. There . . . there had never really been anyone she could go with.

Maybe . . . maybe she would make an exception. Just this once.

Erica closed her eyes and sighed.

"Think of this as training to quickly adapt to an unfamiliar environment."

He smiled, seeing her grudging approval for what it was.

"Will do."

xxx

For a supernatural organization, Minato thought the History Compilation Committee's headquarters looked surprisingly normal.

Cubicles lined the walls, interns rushed around with papers in hand, people were shouting over each other to be heard . . . if he didn't know any better, he would've thought they were in any other ordinary office building.

Their guide led them to a door on the far end of the building. "Here it is." The man opened the door and bowed, gesturing for them to enter. "Sayanomiya-san is waiting for you within."

In contrast to the chaos reigning outside in the main building, Kaoru's office seemed far more organized: books neatly lined a bookshelf on the left, while file cabinets stood rigidly in formation on the right. The girl herself sat behind a desk covered in papers, a hectic mess that shattered any semblance of order the room was trying to achieve.

She shot him a quick glance before turning most of her attention to his companion. "Thank you for coming on such short notice, Elizabeth-sama. I'm sorry to have to bother you with such a matter."

"It's no trouble at all! This is the least I can do when your organization is the one doing all the work."

"Then let us cut to the chase." She pulled out several sheets of paper from somewhere within the gigantic mess. "I apologize for bringing this matter up so late, but did you, by any chance, forget to fill in your last name on the form? You did not indicate a last name when we collected your personal information to create your IDs either, which is why we have only been able to forge the papers for your friend."

That was an issue he probably should've seen coming. When Elizabeth had handed him his newly created ID after he woke up one day, he had simply assumed the package they had received contained both of their papers.

"We didn't catch the issue at the time since we assumed that field would be correct, which is a mistake on our part," Kaoru said.

"Ah, I apologize for not clearing it up sooner, but the information I provided is indeed correct," Elizabeth said. "I do not have a last name."

The other girl winced. "Well, that may be an issue in and of itself. Almost everyone nowadays has at least a given name and a family name so it would seem strange if you did not. I would recommend choosing a last name for paperwork purposes at least."

"I understand. In that case . . . ."

Elizabeth's eyes roamed the room, skirting over the various curiosities scattered about before unerringly homing in on him.

"Arisato!" she declared. "That shall be my last name."

Minato barely held back the sudden urge to choke. He wasn't exactly the most well-versed when it came to social nuances, but even he knew that such an act was _incredibly _forward.

And from the hint of red dotting Kaoru's cheeks as her eyes darted between Elizabeth and him, she knew it too. "Ah . . . I see." She cleared her throat, regaining her composure. "That will suffice, at least. Please fill out the forms with your . . . newly acquired last name."

She handed the papers and a pen over to the other woman, who filled the forms out at a breakneck pace.

"Thank you very much." She took the papers from Elizabeth and handed it off to one of the many errand-boys running around. "That will take some time to get processed; if you don't mind, would you stick around in case another issue crops up?"

"I do not have any pressing matters to attend to, so I suppose I shall see this through to the end."

It seemed they were hanging around a bit longer. He was glad he had brought the book along; now, he could sneak in some reading time while they waited for the paperwork to be sorted.

"Excellent! Of course, I would be a poor host if I simply had you sit around twiddling your thumbs while you waited, so how about you and I play a game?" Kaoru pulled what looked like a deck of cards from her desk.

"Oh, a game!" Elizabeth was practically jumping for joy. "I have always been fond of the amusing diversions your society has invented to while away the time!" She turned to him. "Would you care to join us, Minato?"

By then, he had already sat down and buried his face back in his book. "I'll pass."

In the background, he could hear Kaoru explaining the rules of the game to Elizabeth. But as he immersed himself in his reading, letting his mind dream of memories long past, the sound of their match against each other faded into nothingness.

A shudder ran through the building, breaking his concentration and waking him from his happy dream. Outside the office, he could hear people running around, panicking. A messenger rushed in, speaking several hushed words to his leader, then just as quickly ran back out.

She stood up, speaking in a calm tone that suggested this was an everyday occurrence for her. "It seems a Heretic God has descended nearby. It would be best if we took action immediately."

Elizabeth nodded vigorously, her attention still riveted on her hand of cards. "Yes, yes . . . if I do that . . . then that . . . ."

Kaoru frowned at her opponent's rather nonchalant response. "Ah . . . Elizabeth-sama? I do believe it is time you did your duty."

Elizabeth shot to attention. "Oh, my apologies! I'm afraid I was too engrossed in this game. A Heretic God has descended, you say?"

"Indeed. While we are working to evacuate the surrounding areas, the god's rampage will still leave vast swathes of destruction in its wake if we do not stop it immediately. I'm afraid Godou-kun is not around at the moment, so it is up to you to quell it." She walked out of the office. "I will be outside, directing the others. If you need my assistance, feel free to contact me."

"Hmm, this sounds like a troublesome situation . . . ." Her attention returned to her cards, heedless of the fact that her opponent was no longer present. "Minato, could you be a dear and take care of that for me? I am quite loath to abandon a game mid-battle."

He pointed a finger at himself in surprise. "You want me to do it?" His finger redirected towards the empty chair opposite her. "But your opponent left."

"That simply means we will resume once the incident is over! In the time it takes for this to be resolved, I should have finally determined the best line of play in this scenario. In any case, you are perfectly capable of handling this matter yourself, are you not? After all, you even defeated _me _in battle once."

"You were holding back."

"Only a little!"

They stared at each other, a few moments passing before she finally glanced away with a huff.

"Okay, maybe a lot," she admitted. "But you have grown much more powerful since then, haven't you? I have every bit of confidence that you can do it! I'll even send Mischief along to assist you!"

The cat bounced onto his head and nestled there once again as he sighed. He had no idea how a _cat _would be of any use against a god, but he supposed he probably wouldn't need the help anyway.

He stood up. This was likely to draw even more attention to the two of them in the future, but with how chaotic this world was, his peaceful life was bound to end sooner or later.

At least, this way, it would be on his terms, protecting those who could not protect themselves.

If the gods of this world thought they could toy with humanity at their leisure, they had another thing coming.

xxx

Elizabeth watched him leave, an unassuming figure that once bore such an enormous weight. He, more than anyone else, deserved peace. It was what she wanted; it was what _they _wanted for him.

But the world was not always so accommodating. Even when they had cleared the final hurdle in their own world, it seemed this new world was eager to put even more in their path.

How troublesome.

Mischief hopped into her lap, purring softly. Elizabeth ran a hand through her sleek, black fur, patting gently. Having a familiar was truly convenient. The reconnaissance abilities alone were invaluable, not to mention her other abilities.

Mischief's form faded, the illusion fading away like the fake it was. The _real _Mischief was off doing something important, she knew. Well, something more important than clinging to Minato's head, that is.

She picked up her hand of cards. That little bit about needing time to find the most optimal line of play had been a lie. After all . . .

She set down a card.

"It's my win," she whispered.

To think that the card game Ken had introduced her to would have such a similar version in this world. What were the odds?

Alas, this left her with a wealth of spare time on her hands while she waited for the incident to be resolved. What was it that Ken said players did once victory was in sight?

"Ah, I remember now! They engage in something known as 'bad manners'!"

It was a tactic that Ken had often used when he won against her, a strategy that involved playing as many unnecessary cards as possible before dealing the finishing blow to the opponent. At first, she didn't understand why such a tactic existed; after all, it seemed like a rather inefficient way to close out a game.

But as she encountered this strategy more and more often, she realized that it had merit: it was a rather ingenious way to stimulate one's ability to brainstorm permutations of play while also allowing the opponent to see if their reads were correct.

An end-game ritual that provided an opportunity for both players to improve. How novel!

Of course, she still didn't know why the boy preferred to target his own life total with his damaging spells rather than something more helpful (such as her creatures) whenever he engaged in "bad manners", but it was probably some secret that only veterans of the game would understand.

xxx

Kaoru thought everything was going according to plan.

She had successfully lured the eighth Campione to the designated location using the improperly filled out paperwork as an excuse. In fact, she had purposely chosen not to bring up the issue with the missing last name back at their home for this very reason.

In addition, it had taken some string-pulling here and there as well as shuffling some personnel around, but she had managed to scrounge up enough Hime-Mikos to summon a Heretic God nearby on the outskirts of Tokyo. Using herself as the focus, they had managed to bring forth a weaker god without any casualties, thankfully.

Many would think her crazy, _inviting_ those harbingers of destruction in, but this was all for the greater good. After all, if all went well, this Heretic God wouldn't be troubling anyone ever again.

She entered the observation room, where Amakasu and a dozen operators awaited her.

"The evacuation?" she asked.

"Completed over an hour ago," he replied.

"And the field agents?"

"They are all ready to contain the collateral damage and ward off any who might stray into the danger zone."

She nodded, pleased. "Excellent. Now, we just wait for _her _to play her part . . . ."

The two of them scanned the displays arrayed before them. Each screen depicted a view of the surrounding area, allowing them to monitor the situation outside as it unfolded.

A flash of movement near the entrance to the building caught her attention.

She waited with bated breath as the door opened, a figure exiting as the door slid shut, revealing . . .

Her heart plummeted. She knew everything was going too well.

"What is _he _doing?!" she hissed.

She watched as the blue-haired boy who had been with the eighth Campione glance around curiously before setting off deeper into the danger zone where the Heretic God awaited.

Rapidly scanning the other screens, she desperately searched for any glimpse of the woman who _should've _been the one going outside, only to find nothing.

"What's going on?!" she demanded.

"I'm afraid I am just as in the dark as you are," Amakasu said with a dark frown. "But it seems the boy is headed into danger while the eighth Campione is nowhere to be seen."

She wanted to pull her hair out and scream. She had made several contingency plans, sure, but she hadn't exactly anticipated for Elizabeth to simply decide to _ignore _the Heretic God!

And the boy, what was he thinking? Did he have a death wish?

"Perhaps Elizabeth-sama asked him to scout the Heretic God for her?" Amakasu speculated.

"If the tale of how she pummeled Erebus is true, I doubt she would need the prior information," she growled. "No, my gut tells me this is something else."

Her gut was also telling her that her plan was about to go up in flames, but she was desperately trying to ignore that premonition for now.

She grabbed one of the operators by the shoulder. "Who's the agent closest to him? Tell them to intercept him and turn him away!"

A burst of rapid-fire speaking before the man turned to her with a pale face. "Sayanomiya-san, the agent . . . he says he tripped and twisted his ankle."

Kaoru thought the world was pulling her leg. "You're joking, right?"

The man's face grew paler as he shook his head.

She growled and clenched her fists. "Well, what about the others? Can they get to him in time?"

"The boy has already crossed into the danger zone, Sayanomiya-san. We . . . we don't have the manpower to chase him _and _maintain our formation."

The headaches continued to pile on, along with a deep-seated feeling of dread piling in her stomach. If Minato died to the Heretic God, it would be _her _fault.

She turned around and stalked away. "I'm going after him."

Amakasu immediately tried to stop her. "You mustn't –"

"I can and I _will_. This is _my_ plan, _my _mess, so I will clean it up myself. And don't even _think _about following me; you need to stay here and direct operations in case something _else _goes awry."

The man struggled and paused, before eventually relenting with a sigh. ". . . I understand."

"Good. You do your job and I'll do mine, and hopefully, we'll all be here at the end of the day."

Including, she hoped, a certain suicidal boy. She didn't know where the eighth Campione was; was the woman still in her office? She could go and try to get the damn woman to do something, but if the situation alone hadn't prompted her to move, she doubted words would. And any second she wasted trying to get the stubborn woman to budge was another second where someone might _die _because of her.

She wasn't about to watch someone die right in front of her. Not again.

As she stepped through the doorway, a brief, fleeting sensation gave her pause. For just a moment, she thought she felt a brush of fur against her foot, a streak of black crossing her vision.

She shook her head. The nerves and anxiety were already getting to her, it seemed.

Just great.

xxx

At first, Minato thought the man in front of him was simply another person.

Blonde hair, red eyes, a white coat . . . none of these traits exactly screamed "Heretic God".

It was only after he drew closer that he felt the man's _presence_, an almost palpable aura of authority and arrogance.

"At last, a challenger arrives! I commend you for daring to approach when the rest of your ilk have been busy scurrying away, afraid of the god they willingly summoned into their midst!"

Even the man's voice exuded a sense of superiority, utter confidence that they were above the rabble of this world.

"Why are you here?" he asked.

The man paused, head tilted as he regarded him curiously. "What a strange question. I am here because you mortals summoned me here."

The god was summoned here? Yet Kaoru had stated that the god had descended, implying that it was the god's choice to grace the earth, not the whim of mortals.

He shook his head. That detail didn't matter right now; all that mattered was resolving the situation at hand.

"What do you want?"

"What do I want? What every God of Steel wants, of course! I want a good fight, a worthy adversary to pit my blade against, a great challenge for me to overcome!"

Minato sighed. "Is there any alternative you would be willing to consider that doesn't involve violence?"

The man laughed. "Little boy, you are the first one to have ever asked me such a question. A question with a most obvious answer, for what god of war would I be if I did not slake my lust for battle?" He looked at him with a twisted smile. "It was an amusing conversation, child, but you're not the Campione I was waiting for. Until one of the Devil Kings arrives, I suppose I shall amuse myself by hunting down the rest of the vermin in this city."

A bow appeared in his hands, already nocked and drawn.

"Goodbye."

The shot was fast. Minato only had a split-second to register the attack and another split-second to dodge –

But he needn't have bothered, for the arrow sank into the soft ground on his left, quivering from the force of the shot.

They both stared at it in shock.

The god looked down on his hands, his face twisted like his very body had betrayed him. "Impossible . . . have I truly grown so soft that I cannot hit a child standing still in front of me?" His expression contorted in fury. "This will not stand!"

The bow reappeared, and it was as if a dozen archers had all fired at once, creating a hail of arrows that homed unerringly on his position.

But this time, he was ready.

_His fingers brushed the swirling ocean hidden in the depths of his mind, and he felt a shiver as _they _appeared, answering his call one-by-one. He scanned their ranks, an array of colorful figures, despicable figures, heroic figures, deadly figures, tragic figures – _

_There. That was who he wanted, who he wanted to become. _

He didn't have his Evoker, but that was fine. He didn't need it anymore.

It was only a catalyst, after all. The trauma it induced was a familiar feeling now, so ingrained in his mind that reproducing it was as easy as recalling how it felt.

_He was a mighty warrior, a hero of legend who stood undefeated on the field of battle until his final, treacherous demise. With a spear to skewer his foes and a shield to turn away any blows, there were none who could oppose him and live to tell the tale. _

A figure sprouted in front of him, a mighty figure who brought up a mighty shield, easily stemming the tide of arrows as if they were naught but toothpicks.

The god stared at the newcomer, stunned.

". . . Achilles?"

The figure grinned. "Hello, Perseus. I see becoming a god hasn't made you any less arrogant."

Perseus shook his head, as if in denial. "What? But how? I _saw _you. I saw you bickering with Hector as always in the Domain of Immortality, right before I was summoned here!"

"I don't know about whatever version of me you're talking about . . ." Achilles spun his spear around with a flourish. "But I think the time for words is over, don't you think?"

Perseus's face relaxed. "Yes . . . you're right. I don't know what sort of spell the boy put on you to bend you to his will, but with my victory, I shall free you from it!"

xxx

As Kaoru consciously carried out a course of action that was almost certainly hazardous to her continued health, she wondered how she got into this position in the first place.

Oh, right. Since the world seemed to be out to get her, none of her plans went smoothly. Ever.

And now, she was sneaking into ground zero to rescue a boy from a Heretic God who would be only too happy to murder both of them.

Fun times.

She crept through the abandoned area, skittering between buildings as fast as she could while remaining hidden. Her spiritual senses told her that the Heretic God was still idling in the same spot as usual, but she knew that was liable to change at any moment.

Damn it, where was he?! If only she stumbled on him _right now _so she could drag him back to (relative) safety without the god noticing a thing, that would be _perfect_.

But whatever god presided over perfection didn't deign to grant her wish, for she soon heard voices echoing between the abandoned buildings: voices that she could easily identify as the boy she sought . . .

And a deep, regal voice that she instinctively knew was the voice of the Heretic God.

Fuck. She was too late to intercept him.

What did she do now? Did she simply abandon him? Leave him to die?

. . . No. She refused. She had come this far already, and a fight hadn't broken out yet, which meant there was still a chance.

Kaoru quickly dashed over, using the sound of their conversation to mask her approach. At last, she arrived at her destination, ducking behind a building while peeking her head out to observe the scene in front of her.

The two of them were facing each other, two lone figures amidst a desolate landscape. As their exchange continued, she wracked her brain for options, plans, . . . anything at all!

She paused as a sudden, treacherous thought occurred to her. The boy was a companion of the eighth Campione. If he was hurt, perhaps even killed, would that anger the Campione enough to unleash her wrath on the offending Heretic God?

Was the correct choice to leave the boy to his fate?

She blinked, and suddenly there was an arrow embedded in the ground next to him, still quivering in place. Just a few feet to the left, and–!

_With trembling hands, she turned the body over, praying that there was hope, praying that there was still a chance – _

_She glanced at the face and screamed._

_Because her mother didn't even look human anymore. _

She clenched her fists. Wait for an opportunity. Wait for the _perfect _moment. That was all she had to do.

As her eyes drifted back to the battle, she got the sudden sensation that she was missing something.

A figure clad in armor, wielding spear and shield, was exchanging furious blows with the Heretic God, the two of them a whirlwind of steel that was far too fast for her mortal eyes to follow.

Kaoru was stunned. Who was the new arrival? Where did they come from? She hadn't been lost in her thoughts for _that _long, had she?

She cursed under her breath. It seemed the world was eager to throw new developments at her every step of the way. What was her move now?

A glance over at the boy revealed him to be standing nearby, an idle observer of the intense melee that brewed a few scant meters in front of him.

She didn't know who the new arrival was, but they had seemingly appeared to protect him. Did she use this opportunity while the Heretic God was distracted to draw the boy back to safety?

No. Now that a fight had broken out, getting any closer would only result in adding herself to the list of possible casualties. The boy would be protected from any collateral damage by his guardian, but she had no such privilege, and all it would take is a single careless sweep for a god to end a mortal's life, as she well knew.

Turning away now felt like a waste, but at least she knew the boy wasn't walking to his death anymore. Now, all she had to do was find some insurance in case his guardian faltered.

She flitted back the way she came, the cacophony of battle still raging in the distance behind her.

Suddenly, the sounds of battle ceased, causing her to pause in her step. What happened? Was it over? And if it was . . .

Who was the victor?

Something brushed by her foot, causing her to stiffen in apprehension. A quick glance revealed a black cat circling around her, golden eyes staring at her with some indescribable emotion.

What? A cat? What was a cat doing here?

Icy water poured down her spine as every one of her spiritual senses _screamed _that there was a loomingpresence _behind her _–

She whipped around to see the Heretic God standing _right there_, eyes roving over her. His form was haggard, a bloody gash trailing his side, but the sinister smile he bore still drove a spike of fear deep into her heart.

"You'll do."

Kaoru felt an overwhelming sense of weightlessness, and then she was falling, falling, falling . . .

Her mind hit the bedrock of her unconscious, and she knew no more.

xxx

The god was weak.

As Minato watched Perseus fight with Achilles, he couldn't help but draw that one, simple conclusion.

The god was weak. But it was not because he was lacking in skill: Minato could easily tell from the way Perseus handled a blade that the god was a highly skilled swordsman. It was not because of a discrepancy in power: he could tell from Achilles's cautious movements that his Persona respected his opponent's attacks and the devastation they could wreak if they landed. It was not even simply arrogance on his part: he could tell from the flow of the battle that the god was losing, being slowly chipped away by Achilles's quick, measured thrusts while struggling to overcome the Persona's impenetrable defenses.

The god was weak because he refused to acknowledge that he was losing.

In the end, it had come down to something as simple as weaponry. As a sword-user himself, Minato knew that the weapon was quite flexible and versatile. It had served him well against the Shadows as he climbed the dark tower, all the way until that final night.

But Perseus was not fighting mindless monstrosities as he had. Perseus was fighting an _intelligent _opponent, someone who would _ruthlessly_ exploit the weaknesses of his weapon.

And in a battle between two opponents of roughly equal skill, a sword alone simply could not overcome a spear's extended reach and a shield's stalwart defense.

He knew this. Achilles knew this. And he had a feeling that deep down, the god knew it too.

But the god refused to yield. Refused to acknowledge his impending defeat, refused to believe that he could lose in such a _straightforward _manner.

It was a warrior's pride, a warrior's arrogance. But pride and arrogance had no place on a battlefield.

And it seemed that at last, the god had realized that as well, breaking apart from his latest exchange with several more cuts and scrapes than before, eyeing his opponent with some measure of grudging respect.

"What's wrong, boy? Having some trouble?" Achilles taunted.

". . . As expected of one of the greatest warriors to ever live, your prowess in melee is formidable. If I continue as I have, I will have no chance of victory." Perseus grimaced, as if the very act of saying those words had caused him discomfort. "As much as it pains me to do this, to shatter this honorable duel between warriors, I cannot afford to fall here."

The god raised his hand, and the heavens answered his call.

"Come, my steed!"

A majestic winged horse appeared, its coat a dazzling white, leaving an ethereal trail as it descended. The god mounted it, soaring into the sky as he brought out his bow once again.

"Farewell, Scourge of Troy!"

Another barrage of arrows rained down on them, and Minato was forced to hide behind his Persona's mighty frame as the hero bore the brunt of the assault on his shield. It was clear that since a conventional fight had failed him, the god was now trying to wear them down from afar, using the Pegasus to avoid any kind of reprisal.

Luckily, Minato had plenty more tricks up his sleeve.

_His mind shifted, making room for another image, another perception to manifest. This one was a god, larger-than-life, one who shook the heavens whenever he so much as swung his hammer._

He raised his hand, picturing a mighty mithril hammer clasped tightly in his grasp, and gently . . .

Swung it down.

And the heavens roared.

A bolt of lightning crashed down on the unsuspecting god and his steed, sending them both careening into the ground, blackened and scorched. The god staggered upright, wearing an expression of pure disbelief. "Lightning . . . ? _Divine _lightning? How could a mere mortal –"

The pounding of feet on the ground interrupted him, giving him just enough time to see Achilles _barreling _towards him, eager to end this fight once and for all. Perseus threw himself to the side, the spear impaling the spot where he had just been. In one smooth motion, he rolled forward, picking himself up and dashing forward, past the now-distracted Persona.

Minato watched as the god charged him, sword extended to take his life. It was clear Perseus saw him as the weak link, that he thought killing him would "free" Achilles.

But the god was mistaken, for they were one and the same.

He tugged on the connection in his mind's eye, and Achilles _snapped _to the spot in front of him, spear outstretched and ready to meet the god's charge –

Perseus's eyes widened, barely throwing himself to the side to turn what would've been outright impalement into a nasty gash that ripped across his torso. The god tumbled to the ground once again, and as he got back up, Minato saw that the arrogance in his eyes had been replaced with something else, something that very few gods ever experienced:

_Fear_.

Wordlessly, the god scampered backward, ducking into an alleyway and vanishing from sight.

"Tch. The coward's resorted to running now, hasn't he?" Achilles grumbled.

"There is no shame in running from death," he replied, stepping forward.

"It certainly makes our job a lot harder. The Perseus _I _know would've stood his ground and fought like a true hero!"

Minato ignored his Persona's complaints as he ducked into the alleyway the god had disappeared into moments prior, noting the trail of blood that clearly marked his quarry's passage. He crept forward, staying alert for the slightest disturbances; now that the god was cornered, he had no idea what Perseus might try next.

As he rounded a corner, he spotted a flutter of white cloth. It soon revealed itself to be the god himself, standing at an alley intersection with sword drawn.

He paused, expecting Perseus to dash away in one direction or the other, but the god did no such thing, simply staring back at him with a hard, steady gaze.

"There you are! Finally decided you would die a warrior's death, eh?" Achilles strode forward, speared levered against his foe. "I'll be happy to oblige you!"

His Persona charged forwards, ready to end the wounded Heretic God once and for all.

The god smirked.

A flash of red flung itself from behind a corner, interspersing itself between the combatants, and Minato's eyes widened as the red flash coalesced into a familiar young woman, one who was now directly in the way of Achilles's charge –

He saw his Persona try to stop, but it was too late; as Achilles ground his heels into the ground, his momentum carried him inexorably forward, and even at reduced strength, his spear easily pierced Kaoru's frail, mortal body, skewering her clean through.

He watched the girl fall, dull eyes turning duller, blood spraying into the air like a shower of accusation. He saw Perseus close in, eyes alight with savage fury as he brought his sword up for a lethal blow against his now hapless opponent –

Despicable. And this god really dared to call himself a hero?

_The urge to kill, to rend, to _end _the cowardly god rose up within him, a powerful killing intent that coalesced into a dark, primal figure – _

A wave of darkness rolled forward, tackling the god and sending them both crashing into the wall.

He strode forward, ignoring the god's screams as Death claimed its latest victim. There was no time to play around anymore, not when there was a life on the line.

Achilles gazed at him with a stricken expression as he approached. "I –"

Minato held up a hand. They knew what had gone wrong. They had learned from their mistake. There was nothing more to say.

The warrior bowed and his form faded, returning to the universe that existed inside his soul. He sifted through his mind, already knowing exactly what he needed to do.

_He was the one who appeared at the end of time, the one who delivered unto all of humanity their final salvation. He was the one who bore the brunt of mankind's despair, the one who saved humanity from itself. _

_He was the one who rose again._

Messiah answered him, an angelic, stalwart figure who gazed upon the carnage around them with a pensive sadness. But there was no time to dwell on what had been lost when there was something to be recovered.

_A cradle for a broken body. An unjust, violent death. A spark of life that lingered, clinging desperately to the thin tendrils of life as it teetered over the precipice of death._

_He reached out and grasped the spark, drawing it back from the brink, giving it form, giving it sustenance, pouring on more and more until it regrew into the strong, vibrant spark it once was – _

Minato opened his eyes. Kaoru was in his arms, now bereft of wounds, breathing weakly yet steadily. The alleyway was now empty, with only a bloodstain on the ground behind him to indicate that a struggle had taken place at all.

He felt himself sag as exhaustion finally caught up to him. That had been much more tiring than he had anticipated. How had a simple trip to resolve some paperwork issues escalated into . . . this?

A plaintive meow caused him to look down, where Mischief was staring up at him with piteous eyes. Come to think of it, he hadn't seen her at all ever since the fight broke out.

"You weren't much help, were you?"

Another pitiful mew, and he sighed as he knelt and let the cat clamber on him. She meowed in triumph, having finally regained her rightful place on his head.

As he turned and prepared to leave, he spotted a piece of paper lying on the ground, a most conspicuous object amidst all the blood and rubble.

Picking it up, he read the contents.

"_I'm not even going to bother showing up for this one."_

It was unsigned, but he knew perfectly well who it was from.

He snorted. That was probably a good thing; he didn't feel like dealing with Pandora or any other god anytime soon.


	5. I wish this moment would last forever

Kaoru awoke with the utter certainty that she had died and gone to hell. Or, if she was lucky, stranded forever on a plane of limbo where her soul would be slowly driven insane from the vast nothingness surrounding her.

But when she opened her eyes and saw _him_ sitting in a chair next to her bed, she was faced with several realizations:

One: she wasn't dead. Somehow. She couldn't remember much, but she vaguely remembered taking a spear through the chest. As in, a spear went through her chest and took most of her vital organs with it on the way out, including her heart.

Most people would die from that. Presumably. But her miraculous recovery would have to wait for later because she was confronted with realization number two:

She was about to be asked some very, very uncomfortable questions, wasn't she?

She groaned and covered her eyes. Maybe it would've been better if she had stayed dead.

"I don't know what anyone else has told you, but it's all my fault."

Minato raised an eyebrow. "I didn't say anything."

"You certainly looked like you wanted to. But before that . . ." She made a vague gesture. "Where's everyone else?"

"Your friend is outside, coordinating the clean-up effort."

Kaoru sighed in relief. If Amakasu had shirked his duties just so he could watch over her, she would've had some _words _with him later.

"As for Elizabeth . . ."

That's right, where _had_ the eighth Campione been during all of this? Had she been lying in wait all this time, waiting for the perfect moment to strike?

The door slammed open.

"I'm glad to see you've made a full recovery! Now we can finally conclude our battle!"

Two decks of cards slapped down on the small round table next to her bed and a handful of cards were shoved into her hands.

Elizabeth beamed at her. "Rest assured, I did not peek at your cards while you were away!"

For the umpteenth time that day, Kaoru's brain felt like it was about to short-circuit. While she had been out there, risking her life against foes far beyond her, the Campione had been lounging around, waiting on her to return so they could finish their _card game?_

"After running through dozens of different scenarios, I believe I have finally found the best line of action among the eighty-seven possible options presented to me –"

She wanted to bury her face in her hands. The game was supposed to briefly distract the woman while she finished putting her plan in place, but it appears that it had been _too _good at its purpose.

She didn't have the energy to deal with this right now.

"I concede."

"Ah, I didn't even get to properly carry out the customary end-game ritual! How disappointing."

Kaoru didn't know what "end-game ritual" Elizabeth was talking about, and she didn't really want to know. All she wanted was to just collapse back in the bed, fall asleep, and pretend that nothing had happened.

But she was the leader, the pillar of the organization. It was her job, her _duty _to take responsibility.

Sometimes, she hated her job.

But before she signed her life away, there was one thing she needed to know:

"What happened to the Heretic God?"

"Oh, him? He's dead," Elizabeth answered.

Her heart hammered in her chest, filling her voice with trepidation. This was it: the moment of truth.

"Who killed him?"

Kaoru kept her gaze on the other woman, hoping against hope that the Campione would claim credit for the kill –

"I did."

But a soft voice from the other side interjected, dashing her hopes.

She turned to him, more memories spilling into her mind. That's right, a figure had appeared to defend him from the Heretic God. A figure that had, in fact, done a marvelous job at beating the god back.

Just what had that been all about?

"How?" she asked.

He shrugged. "Persona."

She knew what the word meant, but in this context, it meant nothing to her.

Seeing her confusion, Minato elaborated. "A manifestation of thought."

That still didn't tell her anything. At all.

"Perhaps a better way to explain it would be to call them 'masks'," Elizabeth said. "They are alter egos, _personas_ that people create to face hardship. They are drawn from the depths of human hearts, a collective unconscious where mythological archetypes dwell. Through them, an ordinary person can take on the role of something else, something _greater_. Through a Persona, a mere human can become a hero, a villain, a god, a demon, a spirit . . . the possibilities are truly endless."

Kaoru was sure that in a different time, a different place, such an explanation would've made perfect sense. Unfortunately for her, most of it sounded like mumbo-jumbo, but she managed to condense it down to a few simple statements:

It was magic that drew its powers from myths and legends.

And it was powerful enough to kill a god.

Why hadn't she heard of it before? It sounded like something that would've been _very _useful in their endless struggle against Heretic Gods.

"Is it something that can be learned?"

Elizabeth made to answer, but Minato held up a hand, cutting her off.

"Before we answer that, there is something I would like to ask you, Sayanomiya-san."

He peered at her, a piercing gaze that drilled down into the depths of her soul.

"Why were you there?"

Ah, her little scheme to rescue him from the Heretic God. It certainly wasn't one of her brightest moments nor did it pan out as she had hoped, but . . .

She wouldn't regret her decision.

"To rescue you."

"From what?"

"The Heretic God you were walking towards!"

"The very same god you summoned here?"

"Ye –"

Her eyes widened as she immediately clammed up. Shit, shit, shit. How did he know about that? And in the heat of the moment, she had inadvertently confirmed his suspicions!

Fuck. He got her good.

Kaoru frantically tried to backpedal. "I mean, what –"

But the knowing look in his eyes made it clear that such a gesture would be futile, and she felt the excuses on her tongue shrivel and fade away.

She sighed and slumped back down in the bed. "How did you know?"

She expected rage, anger, hatred, _some _sort of malice directed at her for her attempts to deceive them.

But all she got was that same calm, steady gaze, not an iota of judgement in those eyes.

"The god told me."

She snorted. Of course. She had assumed that the god would be battle-hungry enough to initiate the fight without the need for banter, but it seemed she was wrong. Again.

"You pulled off a most deceitful gambit." Elizabeth tilted her head. "I was under the impression that those who could slay gods such as ourselves are widely feared and respected. Was it truly worth the risk of drawing our ire?"

Was it worth it? Was the _permanent _death of one Heretic God worth her life and possibly the lives of her entire organization as well?

"Yes." She closed her eyes. "It was."

"Why?"

She turned to see Minato's head cocked sideways in confusion. "Why do you feel that way?"

Her hand clenched around her blanket.

"Do you know what it feels like to be helpless?"

Silence reigned. Of course. They didn't understand. They would _never_ understand. Not people like them, people who could crush a god as easily as a god could crush a mortal.

"I do. Me and everyone else who isn't lucky enough to be at the top of the world. We live our daily lives in fear. Fear that today might be the unlucky day we are crushed underfoot by the latest god passing by. And the worst part is that there is _nothing we can do about it!_"

Something wet dripped onto her hand, but she didn't care. "We live our lives as sheep waiting to be slaughtered. My plan . . . my plan was a way for us to strike back. To bloody the wolf's nose, at least. Even if we were not the ones doing the fighting, even if we were not the ones doing the killing . . ."

Her eyes opened, watery trails sliding down. "In a way, this was our way of fighting back. By tricking you into killing the Heretic God for us . . . in a way, it would be as if _we _were the ones who had killed the god. In a way, we could say that we managed to stand, to fight, to _win_."

Her voice dropped, becoming a small, fragile thing. "In a way . . . we could say that we made a difference, that we made some progress towards breaking ourselves free of this endless cycle of terror." She sighed, a desolate, lonely sound. "But I suppose we won't even be able to say that, since you weren't the one to kill the god, Elizabeth-sama."

The other woman looked troubled, wavering back-and-forth, like she was unsure what the proper reaction was. Eventually, she sighed, closed her eyes, and smiled.

"If it is victory you seek, then rejoice! For Death has claimed the god you summoned all the same."

Kaoru felt her heart skip a beat. Was . . . was it really true? Had her plan actually worked, even if only this once, and not at all in the manner she had expected it to?

She turned her gaze to Minato, a silent inquiry.

He responded with a shrug. "It was an accident. But yes."

She didn't know how someone could _accidentally _kill a god, but she wasn't complaining. It felt like a weight had been lifted off her shoulders, now that she knew her sacrifice would _mean _something.

She leaned back in her bed, a wave of acceptance rolling over her. Now that she had fulfilled her final mission, she didn't care what happened to her now.

She just hoped she wouldn't drag too many others down with her.

"I understand you're likely displeased with what I did. Do as you will with me, but I ask that you leave the rest of my organization out of it; they were only following orders, after all."

Another white lie, very likely the last of the very many she had had to tell. After all, she wouldn't _force _her people to participate in a likely suicidal plan; those who had feared retribution were already long gone, somewhere far, far away from this country.

The rest of them were all people like her, people tired of being scared and helpless. They were all ready to die, she knew, but she would prevent their deaths if she could help it.

It was the least she could do for their loyalty to her over the years, to a girl who had been thrust into a position far beyond her far too soon.

She closed her eyes, waiting for the end to come.

"You make it sound like we're going to kill you."

Cracking open an eyelid, she turned to see Minato staring at her in bemusement.

"Aren't you?"

"Is it considered normal to kill someone over something like this?"

"Many Campione have killed for less," she retorted.

"Then it is a good thing I am not a Campione."

She opened her mouth to refute that point, then promptly realized that if Pandora hadn't made Elizabeth a Campione, the goddess _certainly _wouldn't have made Minato one either.

However, she wasn't out of the woods quite yet; there were many fates worse than death, after all.

"If you're not going to kill me . . ." she said. "Then what happens now?"

The other woman spoke up. "Our relationship is one of mutual benefit, correct?"

"Well . . . yes."

"Seeing as how we just did something for you, it is your turn to do something for us, yes?"

Kaoru nodded slowly. "I suppose so."

Elizabeth grinned. "Excellent! There are some things I would like your group to do for me; a very great deal number of things, in fact. First of all, I would like you to collect something for me . . . ."

As she listened to the request, Kaoru thought she got off easy. Running a few errands for the Campione? That didn't sound too bad.

Much better than a fate worse than death, at least.

xxx

Minato pitied the HCC. He really did.

"H – Here are the bronze figurines, Elizabeth-sama . . . ."

She beamed at the man panting with his hands on his knees. "Excellent! Now, I would like for you to retrieve several snake scales for me."

The man looked like he wanted to collapse, but with sheer force of will, he managed to stagger out the door to chase the latest item on Elizabeth's list.

He shuddered as the sight dredged up old memories. Memories of slaying dozens upon dozens of Shadows, hoping to collect the strange, rare items she had asked for from them.

"Aren't those the same requests you asked of me?" he asked.

"Why, yes they are! Of course, since I can't ask them to fuse Personas like I did with you, I shall have to come up with some appropriate substitutes." She tapped her chin. "Ah, I know! I will ask them to bring me a cowry shell born of swallows!"

". . . Isn't that an impossible request?"

"Not at all! I'm sure it exists somewhere in this wide, fantastical world!"

That wasn't the issue, but rather, any Japanese person would understand the significance of such a request.

"Even so, don't you think you're being a bit harsh on them? You aren't even giving them breaks between the requests like you did with me."

She grinned. "Mitsuru would've done worse."

He winced. That was an understatement if he had ever heard one. If the HCC had pulled this kind of stunt on _her_, her infamous executions might have gotten a bit more . . . literal.

"I can understand why they did it," he said. "Even though I don't agree with the methods they utilized. They could've just asked."

"Oh?" She peered at him. "And if they had asked you, would you have agreed to help?"

"Yes," he said simply.

She blinked. "Truly? You would aid them, even though you have long since fulfilled your duties? Even though this should be your time of peace, the time when you should be resting on your laurels and enjoying the fruit of your labors?"

"Yes."

It was just who he was. Even though he was a blank slate, a Wild Card who could wield many different Personas, who could view the world through many different lenses, there was one that spoke to him the most, one that he felt the most affinity for.

_He was the one who would deliver unto them their salvation at the end of times._

Even now, it whispered to him, telling him of this world's many sorrows and many woes. The world was such a sad place, filled with so many tragedies that stayed buried forever.

He wanted to help alleviate this suffocating despair. He wanted to offer a hand to someone and tell them that it would be okay. Above all else . . .

He wanted to make a difference.

That was just who he was. Who he was _now_, at least. He was a far cry from the apathetic loner he had once been, someone who would've looked upon this cruel world and simply looked away from it all.

Elizabeth closed her eyes and sighed. "I suppose there's no changing your mind on this matter, is there?"

Minato shrugged. "If we will be living in this world for the foreseeable future, is it wrong to try to make it a better place?"

A laugh. "I suppose that is true." She spun around. "Kaoru-san will be ecstatic when she hears of this."

"I'm sure she will be." A pause. "That was you, wasn't it?"

"Hmm? What are you talking about?"

He looked up at her. "I'm talking about the part where you set her up to die."

His hunch wasn't something he was entirely sure about; in fact, he may very well be reading too much into things.

But the way Elizabeth gazed back at him, expressionless, all but confirmed it for him.

"Perhaps it was. What of it?"

"I can understand why you did it." He frowned. "Even though I don't agree with the methods you utilized."

"Ah, lumping me in with them, are you? How cruel."

He glanced back down, returning to his book. "That was a bit much, don't you think? You could've just asked them to stop if you knew what they were going to do."

". . . I suppose I might've been a bit hasty. And excessive," she admitted. "Humans plot the demise of other humans all the time, so I thought it was considered acceptable, but perhaps I was mistaken."

He snorted. "You've been reading too much tragedy lately."

"It is an excellent genre!"

xxx

"They told me you almost died."

Kaoru winced as she paused in her Google search of 'How to (il)legally obtain snake scales'. She had been expecting him to show up sooner or later; in fact, she was surprised he _hadn't _rushed to check up on her sooner.

"I'm pretty sure I _did _die out there, Amakasu-kun."

A tidbit that she had completely forgotten to bring up before Elizabeth had sent them all off on this sadistic scavenger hunt. Of course, she had been far more worried about the fate of the Heretic God at the time; compared to a being like that, her own life was barely an afterthought.

He sat down next to her, a shadow covering his eyes. She didn't need to turn around to know that her antics had probably made him age a decade in the span of a few days. Again.

Amakasu chuckled humorlessly. "That doesn't assuage my concerns in the slightest, you know. And I think you are acting a bit too lively to be a walking corpse, hmm?"

"With this sadistic scavenger hunt Elizabeth-sama is putting us through, I certainly feel like one," she grumbled. "Anyway, what do you want? We're supposed to be procuring snake scales y'know?"

"If she hasn't killed us all for our transgressions by now, I'm sure she'll be willing to wait a few minutes longer," he said. "As for what I want . . . well, it's quite simple, really –

"I want to know what you're going to do now."

She glared at him balefully. "Right now, I'm trying to obtain snake scales. Which you're preventing me from doing."

He snorted. "I meant your little crusade against the Heretic Gods. You haven't given up on that, have you?"

"No . . ." She turned back to her computer. "I haven't."

"Why? Your plan succeeded, didn't it? Aren't you satisfied with that?"

"You know I won't be satisfied until I've rid the whole world of Heretic Gods."

"Your scheme won't work anymore," he pointed out.

"I know. I'll just think of another one. I'm resourceful like that."

There was a long pause. For a moment, Kaoru thought he had left the room entirely.

". . . I don't want you to," he whispered.

She frowned. "Didn't you say you would always support me?"

"I did," he admitted. "But my support won't mean anything if you _die_. And you won't always have someone conveniently waiting around with a miracle ready to save you!"

A quiet calm settled over her. That's right, she never thanked Minato for saving her life, did she? She didn't even thank him for killing the Heretic God either.

And she had never, ever, thanked the man sitting next to her for his years of tireless dedication to her.

Truly, she was an ungrateful girl, wasn't she?

"Hey."

She felt his gaze on her, breathing heavily from his outburst.

"Thanks for everything."

". . . What brought this on?"

"I just thought it was the least I could do after all you've done for me," she replied. "However, I won't change my mind; I will see this through to the end, even if it kills me."

Silence fell over them. Had he given up?

"I thought you might say that," he said. "If you won't listen to me . . ."

The door opened behind them.

"Then perhaps you'll listen to _him_."

She turned and saw her savior glancing back at her, eyes as passive as always.

"Ah, Minato-sama – " She hurried to stand up –

He held up a palm. "There's no need for that."

She settled back down. "Well, what brings you here, then? If you're here to collect the snake scales for your friend, I'm afraid we don't quite have them yet."

He grimaced at the mention of their task. "No . . . I'm not here for that." Was that pity she saw in his eyes? "What I'm here for is to tell you . . ."

His gaze was sharp, pointed. There was a hidden strength there, a pool of resolve ready to make itself known.

"I want to help you."

She blinked. Did she hear that right?

"You want . . . to help me? After I tricked you?"

He shrugged. "I understand why you did it."

"Even so, you want to help me? Help me kill the Heretic Gods?"

"Who said anything about killing?"

She paused. "Then . . . what exactly are you going to help me with?"

He smiled.

"I want to help you make this world a better place."

There was a thumping in her chest, a thumping that sounded like it could shake the world itself. This was a crucial moment, she knew. A crucial moment in this world's history, and she was about to witness it with her very own eyes.

"And how exactly are you going to do that without getting rid of the Heretic Gods?"

"We're going to find another way. A way to make peace."

She stared at him incredulously, like he had suddenly grown a second head. "And how exactly are we supposed to achieve that with a race that we've been at war with for all of recorded history?"

"I'm not sure yet," he confessed. "But I do have a lead."

Before she could ask him to elaborate, she felt a chill in the air, and the next thing she knew, that _thing _had appeared, a cackling, sinister creature wielding a jet-black blade.

"Let him go."

The thing knelt, and one of the coffins hanging from its wings swung open, a pure white essence spilling forth to fill the space in front of it, coalescing into something . . . _humanoid_.

Her eyes widened as the shape took form. It was a familiar presence, one she had never expected to feel again. But it seemed . . . different this time. The arrogance was diminished, almost gone, in fact, and the manic bloodlust that had surrounded him before had vanished entirely.

The man – no, _god _before her smiled as he stood up, donning a regal bearing. "I am sorry for before; I was not entirely myself then."

She resisted the urge to bend down and feel the floor with her hand because she was pretty sure she had dropped her jaw down there at some point.

"Let us do introductions properly this time." He swept down in a bow.

"I am Perseus. It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance."

xxx

Alex hated hospitals.

It was not their purpose that irked him; he could care less about what other people did, whether it be saving lives or taking them, so long as they didn't get in his way. Rather, it was the way simply _being _here made him feel weak and helpless, like he was simply another patient on his deathbed, waiting for the end to come.

He hated that feeling. Growing up on the streets, he had quickly learned that showing weakness was a surefire way to get himself killed. It was important to be the one in control, to be the one holding all the cards.

Like a shadow, he slipped through the corridor, unnoticed by any of the personnel rushing about. He could've gone about this normally by talking to the receptionist and going through the proper protocol, but that simply wasn't his style.

He was a thief, after all. And he wanted this visit to be on _his _terms, a desperate effort to maintain a sense of control even as the miasma of helplessness thickened as he approached his destination.

The door was a plain, ordinary thing. He had circumvented countless other doors over the course of his career: doors made of the thickest steel, doors guarded by the strongest of magics, doors meant to turn away even the most stubborn of intruders.

But it was _this _door, this mundane, wooden door that gave him pause, made him hesitate like no other.

It was infuriating. He was a Campione, the one known as the infamous Black Prince, a ruffian who followed his impulses and damn the consequences! Why was a door giving him so much trouble?

He wrapped his hand around the handle.

The door slid open, and he slipped in without a sound.

". . . You came to visit . . . ."

Her voice was but a tiny whisper, so soft he doubted he would've heard her without his Campione-enhanced hearing. She was lying in a hospital bed, her pale, gaunt face looking just a little more sunken than the last time he had seen her.

_He hated seeing her like this, hated seeing what such a beautiful, cheerful girl had been reduced to. _

Her eyes were closed, blinded by the ailment that afflicted her, but she was gazing in his direction all the same, a small smile adorning her face.

He sat down in a chair next to her bed. "Did you expect me to run away, Alice?"

Alice chuckled, but the sound was lost before it ever left her mouth. "You're a thief . . . aren't you? You've always been good . . . at running away."

He was silent, simply gazing upon her, gazing upon what _White Princess_ Alice had become.

She was a Hime-Miko, a Witch, and one of the greatest magic-users of her generation. With the ability to tell the future and her mastery of witchcraft, she was one of the most influential figures in the world, right below the Campione. Or at least, she _had _been . . .

In her case, she had the misfortune of being too powerful for her own good.

It was a well-known fact that the more powerful a Hime-Miko was, the poorer her health tended to be. For most, this was simply a troublesome phenomenon; they would have to limit their physical exertion and be careful to not overexert themselves, but that was all. Even talented Hime-Mikos were not overly held back by this restriction.

But for Alice . . . her power had manifested at an early age and only continued to grow as she matured. By the time she was a teenager, she was hailed as one of the greatest Hime-Mikos to ever live. By the time she was an adult, she was bedridden, too weak to rise from her own bed.

And her power had not stopped there; it had continued to expand, putting more and more stress on her frail, fragile body, not caring at all that its master was wasting away in a bed. By the time she was twenty-four, she was hospitalized, needing life support simply to stay alive.

She couldn't even use the magic she had been gifted with anymore; anything more strenuous than the sensory magic she used to perceive her surroundings would be too much for her frail body to handle.

Even now, the curse was eating away at her still, robbing her of her vitality little-by-little, and he knew that one day, her heart would become too weak to even beat.

_He had to hurry. Before it was too late. Before this feeling of powerlessness sunk in for good – _

"How goes . . . the search?"

"It's progressing well," he replied smoothly.

Another soundless chuckle. "You don't . . . have to lie . . . for my sake."

"Who said I was doing it for you?"

"Oh? . . . Does the great . . . Black Prince Alec . . . need to lie . . . to himself . . . then?"

"Of course not. I am not in the habit of disillusioning myself with empty words."

"Another lie . . ." She coughed. "Perhaps . . . you should give up . . . on your fruitless quest. There is no need . . . to trouble yourself . . . over someone . . . like me."

He felt his heart wrench from her words, betraying his stalwart effort to maintain his composure.

_She was too important to him, too much of a cornerstone of his life. He wouldn't be where he was today without her, he wouldn't be _who_ he was today without her._

_Giving up on her would be like giving up on himself. _

"No." His voice was hard, cold and unyielding. "I may be a liar, but I have never lied about a promise. And I promised to save you, didn't I?"

"Ah . . . but that's what . . . a liar would say . . . ."

"It does not matter if you believe me or not. I will do as I please, and if my whims should involve ridding you of the ailment that plagues you, then you will simply have to accept it."

She laughed silently. "Of course . . . you are a . . . Campione . . . after all . . . ."

Her body shuddered, convulsing as a silent seizure gripped her.

"Alice? Alice, are you alright?!"

The shudders stopped and her body stilled, and for a moment he feared the worst –

"For someone who . . . claims to not be concerned . . . you sounded . . . awfully worried there."

Her smile was light yet teasing. He felt the tension drain away, the claw that had been tightening around his heart slowly loosening.

"If you had died before I finished my quest, then it would've all been for nothing. And I do so detest wasted effort."

"I would tell you . . . to cut your losses, then . . . but I know . . . you wouldn't listen."

Another silent cough overtook her, silencing her. He watched on, as impassive as ever, a cold façade hiding a chaotic heart.

"Hey . . ." she whispered, finally recovering. "Could you . . . do something . . . for me?"

"If it tickles my interest, then perhaps I will."

A thinly veiled smile of amusement.

"Could you . . . hold my hand?"

He jolted upright like he had been shocked. "What? Why?"

"Consider it . . . a last request."

Alex frowned. "Don't talk like that."

"It's not good . . . to be in denial . . . you know?"

He fell silent, the accusation weighing heavily on his heart. Perhaps she simply wished to be comforted in her final moments. Perhaps she simply wished to leave him with a sense of closure.

Or perhaps . . . she wished to let him wash away just a little of his lingering regrets.

His hand crept forward and found hers, embracing it in a gentle caress.

_Her hand was soft, so soft yet so frail. _

Her hand felt tiny in his, so thin and brittle that he thought he might accidentally crush it with but a stray twitch.

He felt a hint of pressure, the tiniest indication that she was squeezing his hand.

"Thank you . . . for that . . . ."

Her breathing was heavy, labored.

"You seem tired. I'll get out of your hair and let you rest now."

He stood up, readying himself to leave, but the faintest pull from her feeble hand on his own made him pause.

"Don't . . . don't go."

He gave her a skeptical look. "Am I not disturbing your rest by staying?"

A small, sad smile. "Your visits . . . are the only reason . . . I lasted . . . this long."

Her hand grew limp, falling to the bedside.

". . . Sorry."

His blood froze.

"I – "

Her mouth moved, but even that faint whisper had faded away, condemning her final words to the void.

Her body stilled, a hint of lifelessness that wasn't there before, and Alex frantically rushed over to check her pulse –

There. It was still there. Just barely. So soft that he had to double check to make sure he wasn't hallucinating.

But it was still there.

That meant he still had time. Time to rescue the princess from the dragon that had invaded her body like a parasite, time to wake her from her slumber before death's ghostly hands made her sleep eternal.

He stood up, a new fire alight in his eyes, a new desperation festering in the reaches of his soul.

"I'll be back," he whispered. "The next time I come, it'll be with your cure in hand."

There was no other option. She just had to wait for him.

_Please._

He slipped through the door, vanishing into the darkness almost immediately, footsteps imbued with newfound vigor.

_Wait for me._

xxx

When Alex had first founded the Royal Arsenal, his own personal Mage Association, he had done so with the vision of a snake in mind.

No, not a snake. A Campione wouldn't settle for something as mundane as that.

A hydra. Yes, that was the best way to describe this organization: a mythical beast with many snarling heads, each ego pressing onward even as its comrades fell beside it.

The requirements for joining were quite simple: one had to know of the existence of gods, and one had to have an ambition they wished to pursue.

As a result of these lenient standards, many of those from the more unsavory side of human society had joined, including occultists, street hoodlums, con artists, thieves, and commoners with a grudge against the supernatural.

With so many of these vying, chaotic personalities, it would've been impossible to lead them as a cohesive whole.

So, he hadn't even bothered to try. Instead, he allowed them to form their own little cliques, structuring themselves as they saw fit. Royal Arsenal fractured into several different factions, each using the greater whole as a place to share resources and exchange information.

That was how the name came about. An organization, backed by a Devil King, arming members of the underworld with the tools and knowledge they needed to carry out their nefarious deeds.

He thought it ironic, how such a bunch of misfits could have such a noble name. But he was fine with the way things were; in fact, he preferred it like this. With several different independent groups going around doing their own thing, there was no need for him to do any real leading, giving him more time to plan his heists and advance his own agenda.

Besides, the organization had never really been a serious endeavor in the first place. He had formed it on a whim, a mere impulse.

Although, it would be more accurate to call it a childish tantrum.

_When he had finally become a Campione, a king of this world, he had barged into her office and demanded that she and her organization follow him._

_He could still remember it vividly, that sad, sad smile she wore as her lips parted and she spoke:_

"_I refuse."_

_He had been shocked. Everyone knew that crossing a Campione was foolhardy, everyone knew that angering a Devil King was a surefire way to get yourself killed._

_But she had done it, and she had done it with a smile on her face._

_When he had demanded an explanation, demanded a reason for her defiance, she had simply shaken her head and made one last request:_

"_I would gladly offer my life to you for my transgression; all I ask is that you spare my organization your wrath. This was my decision, and my decision alone."_

_He had been furious. Outraged. He had gazed at her in fury, gazed at her in rage, then spun on his heel and ran away._

_He couldn't – he couldn't stand to be there any longer, couldn't stand to look in those green eyes anymore, those eyes that tugged at his heart and made it dance with every flutter, every sideways glance. _

He had formed his own organization out of spite, proclaiming his desire to oppose Witenagemot and its White Princess Alice, as well as other elitist magic associations.

Many had flocked to his banner, victims of one magical malpractice or another. They had looked at him with wide eyes, expecting him to hand them their victory on a silver platter. For they had a Campione on their side, and the enemy did not, so clearly, the matter was already a foregone conclusion.

They had waited for him to lead them on their glorious crusade, and yet . . .

He had done nothing. For he had cooled his head and realized that eradication was not what he wanted, was not the answer he had been looking for.

He thought it ironic, how the princess he had once promised to depose was the same princess he was now rushing to save.

Alex stormed through the main hall of the Royal Arsenal headquarters, drawing curious glances from onlookers standing around. But it had long since become an unspoken rule to not pry into the business of others, a rule that was _strongly _encouraged.

It was one of the few rules he personally endorsed. As such, it was one of the few rules that no one had broken.

Until now.

"Hey, Alex-sama."

A tall, gruff man stepped into his path. He had a stout build and twin blades slung over his back.

Alex paused, irritation building in his chest. He didn't have time for this. _She _didn't have time for this –

"I noticed you've been going to the hospital mighty often lately. Visiting a sick family member or something?"

"That's none of your business," he snapped.

The man held up his hands and stepped out of the way. "I was just wondering, is all. Keep your secret, if you'd like."

His pace redoubled as he swept past the man. That encounter had brought up an unpleasant reminder, a reminder that out of everyone in his organization . . .

No one held any love for White Princess Alice or her ilk.

_Except for him._

If they knew of her crippled state, of the fact that she was lying helpless in a hospital, he had no doubt they would take advantage of her weakness and send in assassins to finish her off. He had considered simply disbanding the whole organization, but the problem with that was . . .

Since he held no true leadership position, the organization known as Royal Arsenal was merely a formality. Even if it were to suddenly disappear, the constituent subgroups, the _real _organizations, could simply choose a different meeting place and continue as normal.

The other option was to simply murder them all. But while he was a criminal, a ruffian, a thief . . .

He was no killer.

_He wouldn't want to touch her hands with such despoiled fingers, to stain her hands with that ugly red mark._

For now, he would simply have to keep her location a secret. But the current pressing need was to find a cure for her condition, and _fast_.

He finally reached his manor proper, a building connected behind the Royal Arsenal headquarters. He rushed past dozens of his trophies, trophies that sat on his shelves collecting dust like so much trash. There were many exotic items among his collection: famous paintings, valuable artifacts, priceless treasure . . .

They were all worthless. All garbage. None of them were of any value to him.

_Not when they couldn't save that which was most precious to him. _

Even though he hadn't set foot in his abode for weeks, there was no dust. He had only one servant, one person whom he trusted enough to have free reign in his residence.

"Ah, welcome back, Alex-sama."

A young woman with blonde hair and piercing blue eyes greeted him. She was the daughter of a maid from his childhood, back when he still had a family. She was one of the few who knew him from before his rise to god-slayer.

"I'm in a hurry, so keep it brief. Are there any updates on potential leads?"

She was also his spy in the Royal Arsenal. After all, it was _his _organization, so he wanted to remain abreast of what the others were doing at least.

"There was one report that might be of interest. A few thieves in Tokyo were around when a Heretic God descended, and they stuck around to pilfer from the homes of people that had evacuated."

Alex snorted. Those fools were lucky their greed hadn't gotten them killed.

"Apparently, they saw something interesting happen. The Heretic God killed a girl, and the boy he was fighting flew into a rage and ripped the god apart."

"Oh? The girl must've been important to him, then."

She shrugged. "That's not the interesting part though. What's fascinating is that afterword, he brought her back to life."

Alex frowned. "A resurrection-type authority?" His eyes shot up. "Were there any side effects? Any hint that it was less than perfect?"

She shrugged. "The thieves, quite understandably, didn't stick around long enough to find out. But even with this kind of uncertainty, it may still be a worthwhile lead to pursue."

Alex closed his eyes. A solution like this was far from his ideal of a cure, but with the hourglass so close to running out . . . he would just have to accept it.

"Where is he?"

She pulled out a bundle of papers. "After some correspondence with my contacts in the HCC, I believe the identity of the boy is most likely to be him." She pointed at the photo on the first page.

"His name is Minato Arisato."


End file.
